Saturday

Last one that is, even though we're closer to the next one.

 

I went out for a few drinks with A and his girlfriend K.  Despite the fact I should have been getting over my cold that had caused me to not taste any of the Mexican meal I'd been out for the night before with work, I thought few whiskey's would do me some good.  Also, I wanted to hear K's tales of Glastonbury so I decided I would make the trek (1 train, 3 tubes) to Fullham Broadway.

 

At one point, K went to the girls' room leaving A and mine's conversation to drift to the discussion of the other girls in the bar.  There were plenty of pretty and stylish girls there and they didn't seem to pretentious, which is rare or pretty and stylish girls in a London bar.  A pointed out one blonde girl in a blue top who was nice who I'd already noticed before.  Then, as if by magic; summoned by the power of our collective thought of her, she and her friend walked over towards our table.  Her friend had dark hair and was equally beautiful.  Upon reaching our table one of them, I forget which, asked if we minded if they came over and introduced themselves.  Now I don't mind admitting that beautiful women don't often make a habit of introducing themselves to me in bars.  Even when I used to go to bars with perhaps my most classically attractive of male friends, girls might come over to him but would typically practically ignore me.  Maybe these two had been more inspired to come over by A, who fills out his T-shirt sleeves more than I do, but still: there were two of them and two of us.

 

Once I regained my composure, after the shock of these two girls coming over to us while we were just talking about them, I said of course we didn't mind.  A said nothing.  They then asked us where we were from, I told them that I was from Croydon, or at least living there.  They seemed pleased at this and said they were from somewhere I'd never heard of, just south of Purley.  A said nothing.  I asked them what brought them to Fullham; apparently one of them was working there now.  They then talked amongst themselves for a short while, while A remained silent; he'd not even turned around to face them.  

 

Eventually one of them asked "do we smell, or something?" in an understandably slightly put-out tone.  No doubt such women were not accustomed to being ignored so rudely the way A was seemingly ignoring them now.  I told them that I thought A was worried what his girlfriend might think when she came back if he saw them talking to him, at which point he finally stirred and apologised, saying that K got jealous (not really true).  The girls walked away, off to the bar.   Later on they left alone, after turning down various advances on the dance floor.

 

No explanation was given to propperly justify such rude behaviour; perhaps A didn't want to risk the possible ironic justice of being caught when not-acually intent on cheating?