In And Out

I had to work last night until 9pm, closing down the Admin office, which also involves shutting down the stores tills. I'd had a headache most of the day and I ended up being sick. Very sick. Thankfully I wasn't in the office at the time, unfortunately I hadn't quite made it to the toilets either. The stores deputy manager can attest to just how sick I was, given that he saw the mess. Which I duly cleaned up. For my part I'm very glad I hadn't eaten much that day, and had drunk plenty.

Anyway, as is usually the case with my headaches, once they've caused me to empty my stomach, they bugger off, their job being done so to speak. I sped home from work, and got back here at about 9:25pm, with an empty stomach, no headache and feeling extremely awake. After a quick check, I discovered that no-one who I normally roleplay with was online and so I decided "what the hell", and quickly got changed, sprayed on deodorant, brushed teeth and headed out.

I got to the Market House a little before 10pm, and the place was busy but not packed, a lot of the early drinkers having headed towards either Dellar's Wharf or Shout I would imagine. And the best looking barmaid was there, an uber-cute blonde, wearing an inventive pair of jeans with the zip at the back! And as it was Saturday, so it was 80's Night, and in short order I was dragged onto the dance floor (no kidding, I was literally hauled out from the rail where I was standing, barely had time to set my drink down).

It was a good night, it was gone midnight when I headed home. I had only taken 12 quid with me, so couldn't drink that much and my money ran out long before the music did, so I was already sobering up when I left. I think I'll do that in future, as I felt a lot better walking home than I normally do, having only had a couple bottles of Corona (a mexican beer served with a slice of lime stuffed into the top of the bottle), a couple orange Reef's and a pint of Stella Artois lager to drink.

But still, I walked home alone. No names learned, no phone number for me to call later... I'm doing something wrong that much is obvious. I see the women I dance and flirt with, walking off with other guys. There is a missing component somewhere, an ingredient that I've left out. I just need to figure out what it is.

On the plus side I did meet Jamie (granted he was off his head drunk at the time), who proclaimed that I'm a beautiful person, that I'll get to "fuck em all", and that should he ever see me getting beaten up, he'll kill whoever is doing it. I was at a loss for words at hearing that, so I just said "Thanks". His girlfriend tugged him away then, and flashed me a smile and a roll of her eyes. I hope she looks after him.