damn you bats! damn you! (From This Is Local London)

damn you bats! damn you!

3:04pm Wednesday 25th April 2007 in Blogs By Jennie

So it would appear that I'm dating again. And basically, based on what I said ...ooooh, two days ago?.....I'm a total hypocrite.

The guy I almost had a date with the other week (the one who I met on Easter Sunday when I was so pissed I could barely walk), called me last week and we rescheduled for this Friday. However, he also mentioned that his band were playing up in town last night, and it would be great if I could make it. Tuesdays being the frantically busy experience they usually are at work, I said I probably wouldn't be able to, so we left it at Friday.

But yesterday, which was a slightly more mad Tuesday than I've had in weeks, I decided I'd go to the gig after all, and I totally and without exception blame MySpace for this. Like most bands out there, his band has their own page. And he has his own. Which I looked at. And looked at. And kicked myself ever so slightly for not being able "to remember a single facial feature" of his, because....how can I put this? As facial features go, they're not bad. Not bad at all.

So, carpe diem , and off I went. I went on my own because, being that I was basically there to hang out with some guy, it wouldn't really have been fair to have dragged one of my friends along. I had to go straight from work, because we finished at 7:30, and I didn't have any means of tarting myself up at all. I wasn't at my prettiest, but at least I could walk in a straight line.

I walked into a large pub, with music posters all over the walls. Didn't know a soul there. Thanks to the pictures on his site, I had a rough idea of who I was looking for, but I wasn't sure if he would. However. We spotted each other at the same time and a gigantic smile spread all over his face (same goes for smile - not bad at all). He came straight over and gave me a hug. "Thanks so much for coming," he said, repeating it even more earnestly when he saw I was on my own.

We spent the night alternately watching the bands playing before his, and talking to his friends, who are a lovely lot - really friendly and welcoming. I was so nervous - never mind butterflies in my stomach, I had bats . In the nicest possible way, I felt like I was about to throw up.

Cutting to the chase, his band were headlining, so they were on last. The supports had been fairly forgettable, but these guys are GREAT. There are three of them and the songs are just brilliant. The audience was mostly made up of all their mates and a few were doing some pretty manic dancing at the front (I was doing some fairly non-offensive swaying) and I spent a lot of time laughing at them, then switching my eyes back to the stage, where he was smiling at me. Bats! Bats!

The bats went into overdrive though, when he insisted on driving me home. Not because I embarrassed myself by trying to navigate back to my house, but because when we got there, I asked if he wanted a cup of coffee. Which he did. My flatmate was already in bed, so the house was completely quiet. When we were in the kitchen and I was brewing the coffee, with him mere millimetres from me, I seriously thought I was going to pass out with nerves. It was suddenly very quiet and I was sure he could hear the bats swarming around in my stomach. It must have been just past midnight at this point, and we retired to the couch. And basically, until almost 2am, we stayed up, drinking coffee, talking, talking and talking some more. It was one of those conversations where you just shoot off in more random directions than you can count - we covered topics such as Johnny Depp, drunken experiences, large insects and Jack the Ripper.

As two o'clock approached, we were both getting increasingly bleary eyed - with the exception of the bats, who were just that little bit more pumped due to all the caffeine they'd just been fed. We agreed to catch up again on Friday (a gig he's been forced into, despite his protestations that he had a date. Apparently his bandmates now owe him big time). He said "I could stay here all night, but you should get some sleep." I walked him to the door, he wished me sweet dreams and then ....mmmm.

What was I saying ? I mean, do I actually listen to a single rational thought that goes through my tiny mind? Apparently not, and you know what? I don't care. He seems really lovely. He's sweet, he's gentlemanly and, best of all, the only thing he won't eat is tomato ketchup. Score!! Plus, he cooks (swoon..)

Oh yes, and that thing I was saying about neutral gear.... Even before this complete turnaround, I really felt as if I'd turned some kind of corner. I had a massive crying fit the weekend before last and, since that ...... nothing. It's like it came out of nowhere, and then it was out of my system. I think about it, but every day I feel less sad, less nostalgic, and I really do find that my ex is increasingly less and less in my thoughts.

However, I must admit that last night, after that very chaste but yummy goodnight kiss in my hall, and after I closed the door, I was sorely tempted to find a compass, work out the approximate location of the Middle East, and perform an extremely elaborate victory dance in that direction.