A very busy day at work, at times it feels overwhelming I seem to have so much on.
An enjoyable evening out on the town at my favourite wine bar (yes, that wine bar) with a female colleague – C – of whom I’m fond. A couple of years younger than me and also single, we became good friends early on.
So I took her to my fave wine bar, the one with the v.dishy waiter, in a very upmarket, central/residential part of London. This wine bar reeks of sloane rangers and old money, very classy – an All Bar One it most certainly is not. Lovely venue, lovely staff, highly eclectic clientèle. We finally get a table. Extremely well-heeled American (residents) at the next table, drinking champagne; they’re probably bankers. There is a fairly large American expatriate population in the city and they tend to have very good high paying jobs and live in the most expensive areas. This is in contrast to the huge numbers of Australians, Kiwis and South Africans who do ‘normal’ jobs like myself; the Americans here have always been rich, Wall Street types (due to London’s huge financial services sector).
I love the wine bar as it reflects London’s absolute cosmopolitan nature – perhaps more so than any other city in the world.
I haven’t seen the waiter in two months. We’d flirted, somewhat, when last we met. He says hi but that’s about it. I feel momentarily deflated. C asks me, as an aside, if I’m sure this guy is gay. I say no, I don’t know if he is or not, but that we got on very well when last I was here, with another female friend.
A bit later I’m at the bar ordering more drinks and this time we talk and chew the cud. C watches from the sidelines; analysing. She says later that he was much more flirty this time and I felt, something. We talked for a while and I could sense myself flirting.
C asked me later how I feel about him; is he my type? I don’t know. We both agree he’s beautiful but feel there is something ‘Tim nice but dim’, possibly, about him. This means he may be less my type.
He pours me another glass of divine prosecco (have I mentioned that it’s one of my most favourite drinks?) and tells me to take a sip. At first I didn’t quite get what he meant (we were ordering by the glass as C is only on one drink tonight) – and I thought he was asking me to see if it was fizzy. It turns out, however, that he was wanting to give me more than a glass – i.e. take a large slurp and I’ll refill your glass – which he then did, though it overflowed slightly. He got a cloth and wiped the table and my fingers; is it wrong to feel momentarily electrified? Possibly.
An enjoyable evening, C is hooked and we’re planning our return trip already.