almost witty

There was this gorgeous redhead at work I fancied/ had the hots for, for about a year. No idea what she was actually like as a person, although that was mostly because every time I was near her I’d do a perfect impression of a stumbling idiotic buffoon (as opposed to my usual imperfect one). Plus, whenever we did try to talk, it was a tad difficult to find a mutual topic of interest outside of work, not being able to think around her. She was way above my league - if it was between her and Nicole Kidman, it’d be Redhead Girl anytime.

Anyway, she’s apparently just moved to Leeds. Doh! Should have struck (or at least emailed her) while the iron was within striking distance!

And in a lesson on workplace gossip and subtlety, a couple of workplace friends have IM’ed me with this delightful piece of news. And telling me that I should essentially email her and say “Now you’re moving to Leeds, I can tell you that I really fancy you, and how about a drink sometime”? Hrm… What do you think?

So for some reason I wake up today (gor blimey) feeling a tad down, jaded and just weird about life generally. Maybe I can tell the weather’s getting colder and soon we’ll all be moaning about how cold it is… So anyway, I get up rather late and run to work, not shaving, that sort of thing.

Then I get a text from Flirty Girl/Woman saying Hi, I’m going to be at work, let’s do lunch together. Except I’ve already done lunch.

So I end up taking her around work, showing her a few things, chatting in the meantime and then sitting in the garden for an hour or so.

The conversation isn’t quite as flirty as before, but there’s a bit of sparring, openness. She is available apparently, although she likes Robert DeNiro, and my impression of the Taxi Driver fellow just isn’t going to cut the mustard.

We ummmed and ahhhed about going out somewhere this weekend - probably won’t happen, what with my plans - but hey, if nothing else, I’ve got someone’s phone number at least.

I should be elated by that, but I’m not.

Two weeks, two first-time “dates” or meetings, two cancellations. So far my Cardiff date cancellation record is almost at 50%

So what do you do when a date cancels, two hours before the date, by text? Does one text her back and say “Ok… let me know when you’re free?” or say “Ok… how about Thursday at 8pm”?

Do you go for the plucky “I’ll let you decide” or keep pushing and pushing until the woman can actually say “Quite honestly, I’d rather jump in a pit of rancid lobsters than go out for a drink with you”.

Or is it my fault for even trying to go on a date in the first place? Never tempt the Gods, and all that…

Just caught a trail for Big Brother US, which is showing on E4. The theme of the house is basically people and their ex’s - and they featured one Korean-American contestant, Jun who said that she wouldn’t date Asians any more because they had too many pre-conceived ideas of what Asian women should say and/or do.

Which is a tad strange because, erm…
a) I’m a British-Chinese male, and I certainly wouldn’t want a woman who cooked, cleaned etc. - apart from anything else, I like cooking!

b) Of the white guys I know and lived with who lusted after Asian women like my sisters, I’d imagine a fair proportion of the “fantasy” was the whole love-slave thing. Which most men probably have about women generally, of course.

Personally, I’ll date anyone I like - regardless of race. If I’m lucky ever to date anyone again!

Today, I ended up working at a major outdoor event with more teen pop stars than you could shake a very wet stick at. For most of the event, I was in a marketing booth handing out as many merchandising freebies as greedy children can grab hold of, who then come round again and demand the exact same thing. Why ?!

Anyway, I was handing them out with a work colleague who I’d vaguely seen and barely noticed once in someone else’s office, but standing next to her for like 3 hours (on and off) we’d be chatting, and outrageously hammily flirting and getting on with each other. So much so that my “supervisor” had to pull me aside and point out that we were flirting far too much and anyway she had a boyfriend. Oy vey.

Except that at the end of the evening, and after much FREE!!! alcohol was consumed, she apparently didn’t have a boyfriend. She even has my telephone number. Not that I’m expecting her to ever call me again, but it’d make a change if she did…

Anyway, it’s probably the last time I get to help out at a major work event like that, which is a real shame. ‘cos it’s an interesting window on what people actually want out there - essentially teen bands they can sob over afterwards when said teen bands parachute in 20 mins late, mime to a perfunctory set and then run back out to the safety of their coach leaving hundreds of sobbing teens behind.

Plus, of course, being let backstage and hearing the roar of the crowd, the thrill of the atmos. I’ll miss it all. *sigh*