The older woman.

Years ago, I did some volunteering in my spare time. It started off as something I was doing for my Duke of Edinburgh award, but I enjoyed it that much that I continued to do it long after my obligation was over. It was at this volunteering that a few people commented on E3 and myself. 

Typically, I'd have conversations with people that would tend to go something like this:

"Are you two dating?"
"No, we're just friends from school"
"I think you should go on a date. You look good together."

One of the main contributors to this was a girl whose name I can't remember. She was a staff member at the place where I volunteered. We would banter off each other and I thought there might have been a bit of chemistry there. She was definitely attractive, brunette, great figure and had a wicked sense of humour. There was a running joke about her constantly going on dates.

There was another girl, from a completely different school - a stunning blonde - who was also volunteering at the same time. She too asked the questions about me and E3. However, she also asked the same questions about me and the brunette staff member.

Saying that, I was around 18 at the time. She (the brunette staff member) would have been about 22. I was in my last year of school, she'd been working in the real world for a while. Even if I had made a move, I would have been hopelessly out of my depth in terms of maturity, mentally and emotionally.

Fast forward a few years. I'm at a pub quiz, for a charity whose identity has been lost in the mists of time. As it happens, we're doing quite well, both in the quiz itself and some of the raffles. I can see a girl sitting at the side, who seems to be paying close attention to me. She seems vaguely familiar, but I cannot place her. It's frustrating because I have a good memory for faces.

Someone came back from the bar. Was it G? It might have been G, or BW.

"A girl at the bar asked me if you went to..." he named our school.

"Ah." I nodded. The penny had dropped. I explained to those with me how I thought I knew this girl, and how she tied in with the blonde girl. Of course, they all remembered the blonde girl, who we used to bump into during our frequent pub visits. I made sure that I went to the bar next.

As I had hoped, when I went to the bar, the brunette girl approached. Now that I saw her up close, it was definitely the same girl, and she was still attractive. We chatted as the barman poured my drinks. She asked after E3 and the blonde girl. I'd lost contact with them both at that stage. The barman arrived with my drinks and I paid him.

"We should go for a drink sometime," I suggested.

The brunette agreed, though I didn't sense that she was actually that excited about it.

"I need to get these back to the guys. Give me a shout." I told her my number.

"I'll never remember that," she laughed.

I went back to the table. Everyone was interested in what we chatted about. I explained. I also admitted that I'd given her my number.

"She'll never use it," someone suggested. "You shoulda gotten hers!"

I was more than a little tipsy at this stage and quite proud of myself for at least giving someone my number and being somewhat pro-active about it, so I wasn't too bothered. Towards the end of the evening, I saw her party gather their coats. They looked like they were leaving. Brunette girl was the last to leave. She beckoned me over and handed me a piece of paper.

"I can't remember your number. Here's mine." And off she went.

I phoned her a few days later and we did meet for a drink, that turned into a date, that turned into another date. We did get physical, though things kinda drifted apart shortly after that. I was keen to take it further, but she wasn't, though I can't remember why, or even if I got a reason.

I had completely forgotten about this girl. However, now that I've posted about her, guess who I think I saw over the weekend?