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I've got to be… more macho…

I've got to be… more macho…

Going for lunch with H, I’m suddenly surprised to see Flirty Girl lounging round work. So H and I go to lunch and a quick non-alcoholic drink with her, which is generally filled by me talking like a loon, work, and the fact that Flirty Girl is looking for a machoer rugby player.

So I leave lunch thinking I need to be at least a little more macho – after all, on Saturday night a mate had to show me how to make a fist/punch since I was doing such a hamfisted job of it. Then I go back to work, listen to MP3s randomly. Kate Bush’s Rocket Man comes on, and I suddenly realise I’m mentally floating and swaying. God knows what I looked like.

I’ve got a long long way to go. So how can I be a little less effeminate? It’s not as if I want to start brawls in pubs or start chanting at football matches – well, not that much.

Put another way, I have no chance wtih Flirty Girl. Still, as one door closes, another opens…

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