My god I’m turning into a pimp.
So Drew and I went out on Saturday night. It was mostly uneventful. For me. Ended up in Casa, and I decided we needed to meet some people. So I got Drew to point someone out. He pointed to a couple of women looking out of the window overlooking the flooded ouse, to the area where the King’s Arms’ picnic tables were utterly submerged. I said I had been planning to sit down there that evening but the floods had put paid to that. They suggested there were still plenty of places I could sit down there if I wanted, indicating the spiked tops of the iron railing still pointing out above the turgid brown waters. Touche I thought, but plunged onregardless. I got a fairly clear red light but wasn’t going out with a whimper. After we had chatted for a moment I said ”right, you’ve been married, have one kid, split up, you used to work in marketing and you’re thinking about getting back into it.” and she was a little non-plussed. I’d got it wrong about the marketing - it was accounting. Then her friend came to rescue her so I made a gracious exit without people-spotting her (likes cats, single, believes in horoscopes and is an air sign. Has a native american dreamcatcher either in the garden or a window overlooking the garden)
Back to the bar. “Ok, who shall we meet next?”
Drew points to a scarily-made-up girl sitting nochalantly with a fag in her hand. I just came clean this time. I explained that drew pointed someone out and I had to go and meet them. I said I’d been people spotting but that I couldn’t figure them out. Her mum was sat next to her and asked if I could spot how they were related so I said I didn’t know, sisters? She loved it (sheesh). Ended up all four of us back at Drew’s place. Then I left to walk the (spoken for) daughter back to the taxi rank for the cab to her hotel, leaving the kids to get on with whatever kids get on with these days.
I could start to get a complex…