Monday, 20 July 2009

Man Fail.

Last week was a bit mental wasn’t it? Between realising I had £2,000 of debt to pay, a meeting with the ex boyfriend and well, quite frankly the pissing rain that has blighted every inch of the UK this week, I was pretty much done for. Head all over the place, mind whirring at lightspeed over career options, a re-broken heart and general life worries, I was in need of a boozy weekend with friends, and perhaps a sprinkling of male interest. You know, just to keep the cogs ticking over.

Unfortunately, the friends I went out with on Friday night had other ideas. Don’t get me wrong, we had men. We had men coming out of our ears (not literally); the blighters were everywhere. Gorgeous, strapping boys every which way you looked…but that’s because we were in Soho, Old Compton Street to be precise. Great, I thought, as my friends grabbed a flyer off the gay Scouser from this year’s Shipwrecked (who said that TV wasn’t a springboard for bigger and better things) and weighed up G.A.Y or a bar that appeared to have half naked men wiggling in the windows. In the event, we went to neither. No, no, because there was another brainwave. Instead, nine of us skipped down the stairs of a scary, dark underground bar called Garlic and Shots. Can you see where I’m going next? That’s right kids, they took me to Gay Town and fed me garlic. Brilliant. I woke up in an unfamiliar bed with a sour taste in my mouth, thanks to nothing more than rancid shot and an aversion to expensive taxis. Wah.

Now Saturday, Saturday was a bit more like it. To Camden we went, where after seeing a few bands we trotted to the pub next door. I was on route to the toilet when a hand tapped me on the shoulder, at which I turned round to see an incredibly good looking bloke smiling at me, saying those words every girl wants to hear. “Sorry, this is going to sound really random…but I saw you earlier next door and I really recognise you from somewhere, and I don’t know where”. Oh dear god, this man is hot. “Where did you go to uni?” I told him, and the penny dropped. “Me too! I went there, I left in 2006! You must have been in my year”. At this point my friend, playing Wing Woman, discreetly nipped off leaving me with HRH Hotty. Who had been in one of the bands earlier. Who was a drummer with arms of steel and, most importantly, beautiful teeth.

As we grinned manically at each other, chatting away and saying how weird it all was, he got his phone out saying we should keep in touch and took my number and told me to look him up on facebook to see if we knew the same people. A kiss on the cheek later and I caught up with my friend. “He was HOT." she conceded. "That simply doesn’t happen. Ever”. Our night continued at a friend’s flat, where verdict was passed on the CD he'd given me and text messages were swapped with my new hot drummer friend until the very early hours. I went to bed a bottle of vodka later, dreaming about our future life together, imagining wonderful scenes of drumming and marital bliss. Ahhh. Young love.

Sunday I added him on Facebook. “Ello – you found me then ;)” came the response.

Then I checked the photos. Ahh, even better than I remembered. What a beautiful man he is.

Back to the profile. The left hand side. Information. Date of birth. And…oh. Relationship status.

Well, at least he's not gay.

His girlfriend is a lucky, lucky girl.


Ella said...

Ooooh, what a bummer! I hate it when hot men are taken up xx

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Tell me about it. Oh well, it was a nice idea while it lasted.

Anonymous said...

Ach, musicians are too flighty anyway...and all full of angst

miss*H said...

keep in touch with him. you never know what may happen with him and his girlf in the future ;)
i hope that wasn't my brother you met (he is a drummer in a band and lives in camden and was playing a gig last night pus some say he is hot :))

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

PJB - Oh word? Even the really pretty ones?

Miss H - Could have been him, but even if it's not, you're brother sounds alright. Get me in there, will ya.

Elaine said...

Pehaps they split up ages ago and he's been sooooo busy, he forgot to change his status?
Perhaps he was (childishly) waiting for her to do it first?
Hang in there!

Ellie said...

What a bummer! A drummer! He probably would have treated you like a cymbal.

Lynx said...

I guess it depends what you're after.

If it's just a quick roll in the hay then, if he's like most musicians, his relationship status is not likely to be much of an impediment. Well, not to him anyway.

If you're after something more serious and long-term, you'd be better off with an accountant called Derek who drives a brown Morris Marina! :-)

The Unbearable Banishment said...

Was he overtly flirty with you or just friendly? Musicians! You can't trust 'em!

jo said...

oh man that sucks. just when you were having a nice lil forever fantasy going on :P oh drummers... they seem to break hearts...

Blue soup said...

I hate it when guys do that. Do you think they do it on purpose, or really are oblivious?

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Elaine - Au contrare, I think it's a new development (my stalking powers know no end)

Ellie - Ba-boom-TISH!

Lynx - I'll hold tight for a good roll in the hay, I think. You never know your luck...

Unbearable - Well, I'd have said flirty. Seemed keen. My friend said he seemed keen...what with the whole smiley, let's swap numbers, generally keen behaviour. Damn musicians.

jo - Indeed! There must be something about that particular percussionist element of a band.

Blue - Hard to say. I'm guessing they're oblivious, either that or they want someone to listen to the CD of their band. Sure fire way to promote yourself, that's fo sho'.

Anonymous said...

Maybe he'll drum you a song one day!


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