syntropia

Ah go on. Try. Balls to irony and chance. Express yourself.

Well... I met this guy at my local few months back, and having grown up in London, and his being from Bristol I think, we hit it off and shot the shit for bit. He said awright, see you round, I'm here all the time blah, blah. Anyway... I did'nt see him round for a while and forgot about it until the other night. He walked in, and I recognised his mohawk and was like, Oi... aren't you that British geezer I met here a while back... it was, and we chatted for a minute and he gave me his number and went up to the end of the bar. Meanwhile I finish my conversation with this other dude, get another Guiness and then walk over to him and his wife and their talking about something to do with some gay friends and the subject of homophobia comes up(I'm straight but many of my good friends are gay, and so it pisses me off when people are cunts about that sort of thing). So I start to tell this story of what happened to me at the same bar around my b-day in April. I think I mentioned it in a blog right after so it should be there but the long and short of it is that:
I was standing at the end of the bar, bit loaded, and the dance floor is right there which was pretty full and I was watching people dance and sort of dancing a bit in place. Then this guy leans over and says 'can you stop rubbing up against me'. Well, I didn't even notice bumping into him, yet alone 'rubbing up against him', and due to his choice of words and my sarcastic tendencies, my response was 'Nah man, don't worry you're not my really my type forget about it.' Time goes on, and he leans over again and says the same thing. At this point, as I really did'nt even notice it, or think I was bumping into him anyway, I thought this fucker's just some homophobe cunt who reckons I'm trying to cop a feel or something and so say it again 'seriously man, your really not even my type, don't flatter yourself' and go on dancing. Well the third time he says it, I'm getting annoyed cause I don't think I was even touching him(although granted I was a little loaded and could have just not even noticed) and so I did it again 'Look mate, I don't even find you attractive at all, really, your not my bloody type, leave it alone.' ... so he turns away and I keep doing my thing, and about 5 seconds later he hops up grabs me by the the throat and sort of pushes and launces me across the dance floor into the wall where I end up on the floor looking up at him as he gets pulled off me by Trevor the dooor guy. So I get up and think 'fuck, what a wanker, major closet case or something' and try to cool down and eventually leave not having seen the guy after.
Anyway... as I start telling this story, he looks at his wife and then me and says, 'yeah, that was me.' I pause and say what, oh right yeah right, thinking he was just fucking with me. Then he say no, really, it was me.
Awkward moment... and being the weirdo that I am, and due to the fact that we were just getting along great, we end up talking about it for a while, I discover that he has a seriously different memory of events, I ask if he often throws people across bars which apparently he really doesn't, and I admit to being a cheeky bastard about the whole thing, but that I wasn't expecting quite such a reaction, but know how good I am at pushing buttons and being a sarcy cunt, and was sort or asking for something to happen, so your forgiven blah, blah, blah. Meanwhile his wife and mates back off a bit slowly down the bar, and we eventually stop talking and he's like 'Uh, I should go down and talk to my mates.' and I'm like 'Oh right, uh, yeah... see you round.'

I'm not quite sure whether to think, what a fucking asshole, mostly because we were hitting it off just fine and talked it out, and he seems like an interesting guy... or just think, what a fucking cunt. Dunno, but he did give me his number and myspace name at the bar before this so I sent him a message on myspace. We'll see if he responds I guess... that'll be the decider. ? ? ? bloody funny anyway!