I finally got over the bad luck I've been having with boys recently with a little help from a college friend. (Not like that, quit sniggering down the back...) We've been mates ever since first year in college, though it's a funny kind of relationship. We don't see each other all that often, mostly owing to geography and the fact that we're both lazy shites. It doesn't seem to matter though, every time we meet up we're straight back into the same comfortable rapport, knocking corners off one another and having a laugh. There's never any guilt over missed phonecalls or the fact that we haven't seen one another in a few months, it's the perfect low-maintenance-high-reward friendship. He jokes that he needs the few months respite so that his ego can re inflate, and I need it to clamber back up a peg or two. We make a good double act, which is why I'm crediting him with Tuesday night's catch.
My stunning good looks, graceful elegance and immaculate dress sense should be more than enough to woo with on a night out, but of late it just hasn't been happening for me. (The teacher never called...) I think I'm at my best though when I have a like-minded eejit to bounce off, and this particular eejit is the perfect candidate. He confessed at the start of the night that he wasn't doing too well himself of late, and seemed a little resigned to it. But I'm his lucky charm, and he has very attractive friends. Our respective stupid grins at breakfast (3pm in the Metro café...) told a different story. We celebrated by spending the rest of the day sipping pints in the Pav (it was sunny! all day! what else would you do on a day off?) and talking about how we have to spend more time together.
As for the gentleman that had me grinning so stupidly, he's a close friend of the aforementioned head-the-ball. And an absolute gent he is. I'd met him a few times before and liked him from the get go, he's so relaxed that it'd be impossible not to. Fortunately for him and somewhat unfortunately for me, he's off on his travels in a month or so. But hey, you can't have everything. I'll see him before he does, at Féile an Dóilín next weekend, so all's not lost (I can't wait... An Cheathrú Rua is mad town on mad day at the best of times, and a festival where they have a Craggy Island style slow bike race and then burn an effigy of the neighbourhood giant while they taunt the neighbouring village is just going to be fucking brilliant).
That's assuming I survive this weekend though. The self appointed chair of our social committee has organised yet another non-alcoholic group activity, and I'm scared. We're heading paintballing in Mullingar. I'm only going because I'm more scared of her than I am of being shot with a semi-automatic rifle full of paint.
My stunning good looks, graceful elegance and immaculate dress sense should be more than enough to woo with on a night out, but of late it just hasn't been happening for me. (The teacher never called...) I think I'm at my best though when I have a like-minded eejit to bounce off, and this particular eejit is the perfect candidate. He confessed at the start of the night that he wasn't doing too well himself of late, and seemed a little resigned to it. But I'm his lucky charm, and he has very attractive friends. Our respective stupid grins at breakfast (3pm in the Metro café...) told a different story. We celebrated by spending the rest of the day sipping pints in the Pav (it was sunny! all day! what else would you do on a day off?) and talking about how we have to spend more time together.
As for the gentleman that had me grinning so stupidly, he's a close friend of the aforementioned head-the-ball. And an absolute gent he is. I'd met him a few times before and liked him from the get go, he's so relaxed that it'd be impossible not to. Fortunately for him and somewhat unfortunately for me, he's off on his travels in a month or so. But hey, you can't have everything. I'll see him before he does, at Féile an Dóilín next weekend, so all's not lost (I can't wait... An Cheathrú Rua is mad town on mad day at the best of times, and a festival where they have a Craggy Island style slow bike race and then burn an effigy of the neighbourhood giant while they taunt the neighbouring village is just going to be fucking brilliant).
That's assuming I survive this weekend though. The self appointed chair of our social committee has organised yet another non-alcoholic group activity, and I'm scared. We're heading paintballing in Mullingar. I'm only going because I'm more scared of her than I am of being shot with a semi-automatic rifle full of paint.
