Following on from my reminiscing, regret and certain amount of frustration about CAB, my mind turned today to the 'near misses' i.e. girls and women that could have had potential, but for a slight difference in fortune.
Two spring to mind immediately, for different reasons. The first happened years ago - probably fourteen, at least. Having managed to swing a few summer jobs for a couple of friends, one of whom was AM (who were dating each other at the time), they spent the summer working in a department beside mine with other university students. Sadly for them, their work was cut short and they were released with a few weeks left before uni started again, but AM invited me out for a drink one lunchtime with her new friends, one was a girl called B. On the bus on the way home a few weeks later, having bumped into AM who had just finished her last day, she proceeded to tell me that B had confided in her that she thought I was great. Why AM never said anything is beyond me, especially as she knew (and still does) that I am bloody useless at meeting women. AM never got B's contact detail, so following up on that was never on the cards.
More recently, G and myself went out on the lash on Saturday night to a local bar that I'd never been in before. Towards the end of the night, we were both fairly inebriated and, as I am prone to do when out with G, I am a lot more forward and less shy. We managed to get talking to a couple of girls standing nearby – a blonde and a brunette. They were good fun and we spent the rest of the evening chatting away. It turned out that the blonde lived within walking distance of where G and I live, so we decided to share a taxi. The girls invited us back for a drink, which we accepted.
It soon became apparent that further shenanigans were on the cards, should we want. I'm not sure G did, but the brunette had certainly caught my eye and for once, I was fairly sure that the feeling was reciprocated. Anyway, finally getting the girl on her own (and I can't even remember this girl's name, sadly), we proceeded to swap saliva for the briefest of times before the blonde threw one almighty (and loud) hissy fit. It turned out that once myself and this girl had disappeared, G had decide that he was going to go home (at this stage, it was nearly 5am) and the blonde was not impressed (despite the fact that nothing had happened and G had not done anything ungentlemanly).
I was gutted. I was just about to ask the brunette if she fancied a drink (the blonde had no booze left and I had an empty house and a fridge full of booze having had a BBQ that day) when she decided she had to see what was up. Less than thirty seconds later, I decided I should probably leave. The brunette gave me a very nice send off and I trundled back to mine, the rage of an angry blonde still ringing in my ears. Waking up the next morning, hungover, I realised that the brunettes send off (nothing more than an excellent snog) had clouded my mind and I'd completely forgotten to get her phone number. Bollocks.
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