Just my luck

There's a lot to talk about, but I really don't have the time or mental capacity right now to cover it all in detail, so I'm going to stick with a small part of the weekend.

While out in a pub on other business, FP got talking to a girl and her friend. He looked in need of rescue, so I made myself available and was introduced. These were two girls from New Zealand who were in the city on a weekend trip. I called across a mate of mine who's also from New Zealand and we all got talking. FP managed to slip away, and I ended up talking to the friend.

She was gorgeous – blonde, about 5' 4" and, probably the most important factor as far as I'm concerned, she was extremely easy to talk to. I've never been verbose and I'm absolutely useless at (amongst other things) making small talk. However, it was really easy with this girl and it became apparent very early on that this was more than just idle pub chat. There was a spark of something more there.

Usually when I realise that, I fall apart, especially in front of an audience, and there was an audience of about fifteen blokes that knew me in some shape or form. I've rarely pulled in those situations mainly down to "stage fright" and the fact this obsession with my own privacy means I don't want people to know what I'm up to.

Anyway, this time, I didn't bottle it and we chatted until kicking out time. As we were drinking in the busiest area of the city for taxis, FP and I suggested that it would be quicker for the girls to walk to their hotel and we'd accompany them if they wanted. They did, so we started walking. The other guys went elsewhere while we walked the girls back to their hotel. On the way we continued our chat while FP kept the other girl a discrete distance away.

Back at the girls' hotel, we chatted for a few more minutes before they left. I got a great, lingering hug (she seemed very reluctant to let go) that might have gone further had her friend not pulled her away to retire for the evening. FP and I sat on for a few more minutes then grabbed a taxi home each.

I had really enjoyed her company and found her interesting. Although she lives in London, I really wanted to get contact details from her, just to see if we could keep in contact, but it was something I never thought about until after she had gone. I had considered leaving my number behind reception for her, but as I only knew her first name, I really couldn't do it.

I'm really disappointed that we couldn't take things further or that I didn't get contact details because she's the most promising girl I've met in a long time (even more so than PB or Lickable Girl).