Sometimes I ponder if I create more drama than is really necessary. Sometimes I ponder if it would be best if I just stayed indoors all the time.
Anyway, its storytime children.
Its Christmas Eve, myself and fellow near - agrophobics (Chris and Martin) are making a rare trip to a bar in Denbigh. Prior communication has indictated that everyone has gathered in the new booze dispenser called "Deja Vu". It sounds like a wanky place but suprisingly is very pleasant, apart from the Karoke (Damn you Japanese and your hi tech sing a long bollocks). The bar has San Miguel for a reasonable price, and everyone I know in Denbigh is there. Friends and booze, excellent.
This is where I introduce a girl we'll called Lynsey, because thats her name. I've been trying for a while to tell her that I like her. Over the course of the night Lynsey and I will hang out and I will learn its hard to keep your composure when the girl you like is sat on your lap. We also get very very drunk.
During a break to obtain more booze/get rid of consumed booze a bombshell is dropped. Chris let it slip that I like Lynsey to Lynsey. This proves to be good decision on his part (Cheers again) as she feels the same way. There's a conversation about things I probably shouldnt repeat and then its make out central.
OH YEAH!!!
The rest of the evening has been condensed into a big blur. A big happy blur. I walk her home, there's more making out. Then I probably annoy the hell out of Chris talking bollocks all the way back home.
Skip to Christmas Day, this is useful because it means I can wonder around smiling without people wondering what the hell is wrong with me.
"Geoff looks happy, what the fuck is going on?!"
Me "Its Christmas, that is why I am smiling there is no other reason" (Not really to keen on discussing the previous nights events with my parents or grandparents).
Once all the presents and food are out of the way I decide to send some text messages Lynsey's way. I don't hear much back, I figure shes busy or whatever. I busy myself with the task of clearing the house of alcohol.
We roll onto Boxing Day. Waking out I have the worst sore throat ever, but I just attribute this to sleeping in the cold (passed out on my sofa, and it was bastard cold when i woke up). For some reason both sets of grandparents are in the house again so I have to be pleasant through my hangover. I don't have yesterdays afterglow to ease me out of the funk my brain was floating in.
Later that afternoon I decided to take a more direct approach, I decide to call her. Despite the fact that I speak to Lynsey everyday I am nervous. What will I say? What will be the outcome of the conversation? Do I ask her out? Where? When? How am I gonna pay for that? But more pressingly why is she not answering her phone?
By now I have arrived at the conclusion she's come to her senses, and realised she may of made a mistake. Still we'll always have Christmas Eve. We where both due in work the next day, so it would soon be resolved either way. I sat down with "Johnny Depp is a Pirate 2: Kiera Knightley is hot but a rubbish actress" and promptly went to sleep.
When I woke up it was clear something was very wrong. The pain in my head led me to believe that my brain was trying to reenact the chest burster scene in "Alien", only it was trying to break through my skull. My throat felt like someone was sandblasting it and for some reason none of my limbs worked. I came to the conclusion that I was ill.
The next three days are very sketchy, mainly due to the insomnia. By the third night of no sleep I was trying to figure just how hard I'd have to hit the wall to render me unconcious. I can also remember things happening that didnt actually happen outside of my broken brain. Plus there was the headaches, fever, cough and complete lack of appetite. Fun Fun Fun Fun Fun. Its around this time that I deleted all my text messages, including the one with Lynseys phone number.
Not sleeping meant that I had a lot of time to think about things. Guess what occupied most of my brain time? Thats right. Lynsey. Jesus Christ that was fun.
Skip forward a week, I'm finally able to walk and sleep and such. Time to go back to work. Which sucks obviously, but I'll finally be able to get this whole girl situation sorted. At this point I dont care which way it goes, obviously I'd like it to work out but honestly I just want to know if it where just two drunk people being overly friendly.
I'm already to be let down then, all ready to be stoic throught the rejection, I have Brand New albums at the ready to channel my bitterness. Oh yes I am ready.
Lynsey's not there. Not without irony she's ill. Today as well. Bollocks.
"What now?" I ask myself. I'm off making movies next week. I'm not sure I can wait another week to see her.
Wow that was long, If you slogged through it well done. Any suggestions? critisms? queries?
I'll end on a lighter note, here's Eddie Murphy with his own girl troubles
Anyway, its storytime children.
Its Christmas Eve, myself and fellow near - agrophobics (Chris and Martin) are making a rare trip to a bar in Denbigh. Prior communication has indictated that everyone has gathered in the new booze dispenser called "Deja Vu". It sounds like a wanky place but suprisingly is very pleasant, apart from the Karoke (Damn you Japanese and your hi tech sing a long bollocks). The bar has San Miguel for a reasonable price, and everyone I know in Denbigh is there. Friends and booze, excellent.
This is where I introduce a girl we'll called Lynsey, because thats her name. I've been trying for a while to tell her that I like her. Over the course of the night Lynsey and I will hang out and I will learn its hard to keep your composure when the girl you like is sat on your lap. We also get very very drunk.
During a break to obtain more booze/get rid of consumed booze a bombshell is dropped. Chris let it slip that I like Lynsey to Lynsey. This proves to be good decision on his part (Cheers again) as she feels the same way. There's a conversation about things I probably shouldnt repeat and then its make out central.
OH YEAH!!!
The rest of the evening has been condensed into a big blur. A big happy blur. I walk her home, there's more making out. Then I probably annoy the hell out of Chris talking bollocks all the way back home.
Skip to Christmas Day, this is useful because it means I can wonder around smiling without people wondering what the hell is wrong with me.
"Geoff looks happy, what the fuck is going on?!"
Me "Its Christmas, that is why I am smiling there is no other reason" (Not really to keen on discussing the previous nights events with my parents or grandparents).
Once all the presents and food are out of the way I decide to send some text messages Lynsey's way. I don't hear much back, I figure shes busy or whatever. I busy myself with the task of clearing the house of alcohol.
We roll onto Boxing Day. Waking out I have the worst sore throat ever, but I just attribute this to sleeping in the cold (passed out on my sofa, and it was bastard cold when i woke up). For some reason both sets of grandparents are in the house again so I have to be pleasant through my hangover. I don't have yesterdays afterglow to ease me out of the funk my brain was floating in.
Later that afternoon I decided to take a more direct approach, I decide to call her. Despite the fact that I speak to Lynsey everyday I am nervous. What will I say? What will be the outcome of the conversation? Do I ask her out? Where? When? How am I gonna pay for that? But more pressingly why is she not answering her phone?
By now I have arrived at the conclusion she's come to her senses, and realised she may of made a mistake. Still we'll always have Christmas Eve. We where both due in work the next day, so it would soon be resolved either way. I sat down with "Johnny Depp is a Pirate 2: Kiera Knightley is hot but a rubbish actress" and promptly went to sleep.
When I woke up it was clear something was very wrong. The pain in my head led me to believe that my brain was trying to reenact the chest burster scene in "Alien", only it was trying to break through my skull. My throat felt like someone was sandblasting it and for some reason none of my limbs worked. I came to the conclusion that I was ill.
The next three days are very sketchy, mainly due to the insomnia. By the third night of no sleep I was trying to figure just how hard I'd have to hit the wall to render me unconcious. I can also remember things happening that didnt actually happen outside of my broken brain. Plus there was the headaches, fever, cough and complete lack of appetite. Fun Fun Fun Fun Fun. Its around this time that I deleted all my text messages, including the one with Lynseys phone number.
Not sleeping meant that I had a lot of time to think about things. Guess what occupied most of my brain time? Thats right. Lynsey. Jesus Christ that was fun.
Skip forward a week, I'm finally able to walk and sleep and such. Time to go back to work. Which sucks obviously, but I'll finally be able to get this whole girl situation sorted. At this point I dont care which way it goes, obviously I'd like it to work out but honestly I just want to know if it where just two drunk people being overly friendly.
I'm already to be let down then, all ready to be stoic throught the rejection, I have Brand New albums at the ready to channel my bitterness. Oh yes I am ready.
Lynsey's not there. Not without irony she's ill. Today as well. Bollocks.
"What now?" I ask myself. I'm off making movies next week. I'm not sure I can wait another week to see her.
Wow that was long, If you slogged through it well done. Any suggestions? critisms? queries?
I'll end on a lighter note, here's Eddie Murphy with his own girl troubles
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
Instead we just came home, stopping at Asda and Choices on the way. Nothing good in either of them.
I think the best approach with Lynsey would be to just go up to her at some point (or call her) and ask if she wants to do something. Thats all you say - dont make a big deal about how you've had your tongue down her throat. She was all over you at the time and kept going on about how she really liked you so she'll probably say yes.
Trust me, I've nailed a cheerleader
Mention chips perhaps, that family looooooves chips!