Spinsterella

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Spinsterella fails to pull yet again

I meet two men at a festival. They are both interesting and funny and fit and clever and confident and, astonishingly, chatting to me.

They’re both hot, although there’s one I marginally prefer (mainly because of the provocative way he’s sitting – slouched right back in his chair, knees wide). But it’s the other one who’s taken a shine to me. He’s fit too. Very fit. You would. I would

"We’re off now," Second Choice says, "do you want to come with us?"

(They want to hang out with me! They like me!) But I’m working, so I demur.

I run into them again a few days later; First Choice has got his top off in the sunshine. I check out his torso - lean, sparsely haired, appealing. I feel his eyes flicker down over my top as he takes the opportunity to repay the compliment. But then the rest of their friends show up. There are loads of them, including a girl who appears to be FC’s girlfriend. She’s drop-dead-gorgeous. Bollocks.

Somehow, people get lost in the melee, and Second Choice and I are alone together. We wander around, searching for his friends, chatting. He’s lovely, but I have to leave soon. There’s nothing to stop us having a bit of a snog before I go though. That’s what happens in the real world when hot-boy-meets-hot-(well, available)-girl. Apparently.

He touches me on the arm once or twice as we stroll around and I jump a country mile. I’m the least tactile person in the world, not used to Being Around Men (in that way) and sobriety doesn’t help.

I have to go.

We shake hands and kiss one another goodbye on the right cheek. Then there is an excruciating moment where we almost kiss on the lips, but don’t, and awkwardly, belatedly, kiss on the left side too.

I leave.

30 Comments:

  • First Choice?

    Does he work for a travel agent?

    By Blogger Robert A. Swipe, at 10:07 AM  

  • Oooo, that post was an emotional roller coaster. Anychance of a rematch with Second Choice?

    By Blogger Miss Meep, at 10:38 AM  

  • What happens next depends entirely on which romantic model you follow:

    a) the American Sitcom
    You will continue to almost get together for the next six years much to the frustration and entertainment of those observing. When you finally do everyone will loose interest in you.

    b) the British sitcom
    If you are lucky you will get together in a seasonal special just before you get cancelled.
    If you are unlucky you will never get together because you get cancelled. People will write borderline mental fan fiction about you.

    c) the American Romantic Film
    you will finally get together when you randomly spot him at the airport/zoo/in a park. You will run off in pursuit of him, repeatedly loose sight of him and then literally bump into him by a coffee shop/icecream van spilling said consumable over the shirt that you notice is the one that you bought him on that special day out you had.

    d) the British Romantic Film
    you will repeatedly and inexplicably keep meeting him at social events in London despite the fact that it is massive and has a population of 5 squillion. You will learn a skill that will endear you to him e.g. portugese/sign langauge/tv presenting
    You will kiss in front of at least 400 people, almost certainly wearing an extremely embarassing outfit but not caring la la la.

    Good luck.

    By Anonymous Button, at 10:54 AM  

  • No and no.

    I found out later (after some google-stalking) that First Choice is, well he's not exactly famous, but I was, shall we say, aware of his work.

    Oh dear, clearly punching above my weight there.

    Second Choice is wildly unsuitable for boyfriend material, so I'm not hugely upset at not seeing him again. But ferchrissakes, I could have given the lad a snog, couldn't I?

    God.

    Hopeless!

    By Blogger Spinsterella, at 10:54 AM  

  • Button, you got in quick there.

    No, it'll be the Bristolian Tragedy, in which your heroine Never Sees Him Again.

    By Blogger Spinsterella, at 10:58 AM  

  • At least if you never see him again, you can invent memories of what might have happened.

    By Blogger frangelita, at 11:14 AM  

  • "Accidental" arm-touching and awkward cheek-kissing sounds rather like my "seduction" (I use the word in a very loose sense) technique (that one to).

    If he did sidling I should sue him.

    By Blogger Billy, at 11:34 AM  

  • "No, it'll be the Bristolian Tragedy, in which your heroine Never Sees Him Again."

    I wish I had that.
    I was under the impression that an old flame of mine lived about 250 miles away until I nearly ran straight into him WHSmith and had to hide behind the 'Crime and Thrillers' shelf. Luckily I was hidden by a display of oversized Christopher Brookmyre Novels.

    By Anonymous Button, at 12:14 PM  

  • why was second choice completely unsuitable?

    And what sort of work were you doing?

    By Blogger GreatSheElephant, at 1:06 PM  

  • yes, why wildly unsuitable. What does he do? He's not a fanatic dolphin killer? or a telesales doulble glazing type is he?

    By Anonymous Button, at 1:27 PM  

  • I'm with GSE and button more detail on second choice please

    By Blogger realdoc, at 2:25 PM  

  • That's brilliant .. what ever happened to 'could I have your number?' ..

    Great post, brightened up my Tuesday.

    By Anonymous stagedive, at 3:11 PM  

  • Oooo, I am now intrigued as to who First Choice is...

    I'm guessing this all happened at the Green Man...

    It's not Jose Gonzales, is it?

    Gruff SuperFurry?

    Er... Donovan?

    By Blogger Miss Meep, at 3:56 PM  

  • sounds all too familiar

    By Blogger Kirses, at 4:19 PM  

  • that's actually a very nice post.

    i'm also curious, why not ask for his phone number, what's wrong with him?

    By Blogger treespotter, at 5:11 PM  

  • *holds head in hands*

    Spinny. Honestly.

    By Blogger Homer, at 5:35 PM  

  • Unsuitable? Here's why..

    OK, he's too old for a start, he lives a hundred miles away, we don't have any obvious interests in common, I really don't think his friends would get along too well with me...

    Plus, I was conflicted by the fact that I fancied his friend slightly more than him (and no, Miss Meep, it's not anyone even remotely famous).

    All valid reasons for not choosing someone as your serious boyfriend. Not acceptable reasons for not even having a snog.

    Tree, I would never ask a man for his number (then he'd know I fancied him). Yes, I know this is crazy. I'm very shy.

    Slurker, my flatmate's reaction was exactly the same as yours. I know. I'm utterly fucking useless.

    By Blogger Spinsterella, at 7:09 PM  

  • Any arm touching or near accidental cheek kissing would be fine with me. What I wouldn't give for a bit of hot gratutious arm action....ooh must go and have a lie down now


    *just realised that could be a reference to self happy nocturnal shuffledge beneath the covers

    By Blogger Jools, at 7:33 PM  

  • "What I wouldn't give for a bit of hot gratutious arm action"

    Crikey Jools!

    I forgot to mention the other 'weapon' in my seduction 'arsenal' that being the classis 'pretending to fall asleep on someone's shoulder'. I'm cringing just thinking about it.

    By Blogger Billy, at 7:39 PM  

  • Cripes spin, I'm just so disappointed in your behavior.
    love ya
    rel

    By Blogger Remiman, at 7:46 PM  

  • at least you didn't meet him on found-a-bottle-of-merlot day, put your hand very high up on his leg and tell him you liked him.

    apparently i did this when pulling the other half. the inherent sexiness of the boldness of the manoeuvre is no doubt tempered by a very drunk girl coming on to you (don't ask me - i have no recollection of it). you did ok, spinny.

    really.

    By Blogger surly girl, at 8:24 PM  

  • Can I just say Spin..If a double decker bus [ever] crashes into us - to die be your side [would be] such a heavenly way to die...

    There, I've s.........

    (Sound of R. Swipe being scraped off the front of the 7.26 a.m. 490 to Hatton Cross...)

    By Blogger Robert A. Swipe, at 8:31 PM  

  • Ooh...so near and yet so far!

    By Blogger looby, at 10:25 PM  

  • crikey Spin, you're almost as inept as me! I like to think i'd have at least made some sort of half-arsed, humiliating attempt! At least reciprocated with the arm-touching...which would have backfired...

    By Blogger the whales, at 11:15 PM  

  • You penance for this sacrilege, my child, is to meet up with the swipemeister and shag his brains out. go and sin no more.

    By Blogger Chaucer's Bitch, at 12:10 AM  

  • "I feel his eyes flicker down over my top as he takes the opportunity to repay the compliment."

    Gentlemen... we have been rumbled.

    By Blogger Tim Footman, at 3:31 AM  

  • oooh, when are you meeting him again? i can't wait to know what'll happen!

    By Anonymous T, at 8:03 AM  

  • But Surly - it worked for you!

    By Blogger Spinsterella, at 10:26 AM  

  • I'm one year over the cut off, alas and alack, CB.

    And Tim's too hairy.

    (Can you see a pattern emerging here, folks?)

    I had a similar thing with a girl called Abigail who I was completely besotted by when we were 18 - we really clicked, and (I think) fancied each other too. We sat down by the Thames opposite Eel Pie Island after we'd been out for a drink on her birthday and I had the same should I, shouldn't I thing as the Spinster. Nothing happened though and the next time I saw her she looked even more stunning than ever and had loads of blokes buzzing round her and I behaved like a prat because I felt challenged by them and just stomped off in a strop.

    The last time I spoke to her she rang me to tell me that she knew the son of the older woman I'd shagged at a party the week before, losing my virginity in the process. (And a really nice jacket, if I recall)

    It was justa shimmering, golden afternoon as I recall it - a real life Grecian urn and the single most romantic moment in my life, for what it's worth...

    I hope she's still out there somewhere, and happy.

    By Blogger Robert A. Swipe, at 4:08 PM  

  • What the heck does "snog" mean?

    By Blogger Franje, at 5:33 AM  

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