Creative and Witty or Decidedly Weird?
So it's official. The Central Line actually has delays written into its raison d'etre. I'd long suspected, but finally received confirmation this morning.
Uncharacteristically, a train showed up within a couple of minutes of my arrival on the platform at Notting Hill. Even madder, it wasn't jam packed - let's not get carried away here, obviously there were no free seats, but my head actually occupied only its own space, as opposed to that of a stranger's armpit, for once. So we happily trundle along - wonder of wonders, the train doesn't even sit in a tunnel for interminable minutes and then… at Lancaster Gate… an announcement comes over the loudspeaker "ladies and gentlemen due to a service requirement, this train will be held here for one minute." And again at Queensway. "Due to a service requirement this train will be held here for one minute." A service requirement? A service requirement to delay the train? That explains so much.
As I've mentioned before, I am a bit useless at the whole 'constantly on the pull' part of being single. I am not very good at noticing things in general (it's not uncommon for me to arrive home soaking wet and when someone asks if it's raining outside reply "not that I noticed" - and mean it) and so keeping my eyes habitually peeled for the man of my dreams simply requires altogether more concentration than I am capable of. My sister despairs of me. Whenever we are out and I am happily focusing all my energies into boogying to the wrong rhythm and singing along off key, she will grab me, whirl me around with slightly too much violence and hiss "there is a fit guy checking you out!" By the time I have emerged from my shell-shocked panic of "Who? Where? When? … Why?!?" Whoever he was has usually married someone else.
A couple of weeks ago, I reached a new crap-at-pulling low. I was drinking with a mate of mine, when a guy he works with joined us. This guy, on paper, is 100% my ideal man.
Tall, dark and handsome? Check (so sue me for being unoriginal)
Creative and witty? Check (at least I didn't say good sense of humour!)
Slightly wild, a bit of a loose cannon? Check (yes, this is one of my requirements… and you wonder why I am single!)
Decidedly weird? Check (don't look at me like that)
Canadian? Check!
We're all in the bar, some other people join the table, so we all get up to move to a bigger table. I had stashed my coat and bag under the chair opposite me, so when everyone got up, I hovered by the table waiting for everyone to go so that I can lean over and grab my stuff. Mr Right is also a gentleman (forgot to mention that - also swoon-worthy!) so he gestures and says "after you". I explained about my stuff, and Mr Right grabbed it, handed it to me and held on just a second too long after I took it, smiling a (I believe, patented) "you're the only woman in the world" smile. So what did I do? I thanked him and walked away. Now don’t get me wrong, I understand from my mate who works with him that this particular bloke is capable of monogamy for approximately three and a half minutes (usually in a jammed stop elevator) so it's not as though I gave up a chance of true lurve and hand holding through the park and babies, but I didn't even think that at the time. Here was, theoretically, my dream man, and it didn't even cross my mind to go into turbo-charged flirt mode (although goodness knows what that would have entailed).
However, just because I am useless at all this, doesn't mean my sister is. She is a woman on a mission, a pimping-her-sister-out mission. Her latest project works with her. It seems that she has pitched me, undesirable qualities (as only a sibling can) and all, and apparently he has expressed willingness to climb a rock. (In an effort to dissuade her, I once announced that I would only consider rock-climbers.) Last night she brought home a gift from the Project for me (a good start, it must be said)… an eighties teen girl book entitled "My Dream Man". Intriguing. Could this be a Creative and Witty check or a even Decidedly Weird check?
