Bloggingmyproclivities

Bloggingmyproclivities

Monday 18 March 2013

Is this a man I see before me?


Goodness, of course it’s not. Don’t be so silly. Don’t tell me you thought I’d stopped blogging because I’d met some bloke, did you?

The title actually refers to Friday night and my latest exploits in town.

My best buddies were out of town for work; yes, they have the kind of job that requires them to travel. Seems like a good deal to me, who as a teacher has only ever traveled overseas to Phillip Island. For school camp. Three days, two night of fun, fun, fun with 200 adolescents who don’t want to go to sleep.

But I digress, as ever.

As my buddies were out of town I went out last Friday with a couple of other friends. I have previously been out with them in a group, had a few drinks, a few dances, chatted to a few men etc. It’s all been good.

This Friday was different though and I have been musing, as is my wont, as to why. (Actually, it’d be good if I could do less musing at times and more sleeping.) I think I have discovered why. The point of the exercise on Friday night appeared to be ONLY to check out and pick up men. And if there were no men at a particular venue –as was pronounced at one place - we needed to move on.

Now on my usual Friday night I am not averse to checking out men but it’s more of a sideline. The main business of the evening tends to be having fun with my friends. Usually that means a lot of dancing, and some drinking also, but not to excess. Well, the drinking that is, not the dancing.

And if we end up talking to men, or men talk to us - probably because we’re having such a good time – then that’s fine. Last Friday, however, was a concerted effort to hunt down hot men. Then admire them, loudly, speak to the them, if possible, and finally lament them, should they happen to pick up someone else before we’d made our move.

Then we could go somewhere else and loudly lament them on the way.

I mean really, ladies, how old are we? 22? No, we are not and I ended up abandoning them both early on in a club when they were busy talking to the bouncer; who was, apparently, hot.

I thought this was quite canny of me as they were too engaged with chatting with him to object to my leaving. Even more canny of me was to check my iPhone to see which way was which. When that didn’t help I asked the Cloak Room girl where the nearest train station was and we pinpointed it on my iPhone too, just for good measure.

Unfortunately since I was beating a hasty retreat I didn’t have time to think about the train schedule and ending up waiting 24 minutes for the next train out to the boon docks where I (still) live.   

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