Manifest Destiny
On Friday night Bec came over for drinks before Ambar's RTR fundraiser.
She had to phone me from the street to let her in, since she couldn't reach through the gate to relase the catch. I was untying my shoes at the time. But as soon as I got them off, had a shower, picked out and donned an outfit, brushed my teeth and combed my hair, I rushed out to rescue her from the wind and cold wth nary a thought for my own welfare. Who says that chivalry is dead? Eat your heart out Sir Walter Raleigh!
Much later that night, as I meditatively sipped a magnum of red wine at Nat's house, it occurred to me that I've never met a single girl who is able to open that gate. Either they're too short and they can't get their shoulder over the hole in the door, or their arms are simply not long enough to reach down the other side. This of course has some serious implications on our current search for a new housemate. Once Dan moves out it'd be ideal for a girl to move in to give the house a bit more balance. Or at least give us an excuse to put the toilet seat down once in a while. But how can we possibly know which girl is right for us?
And then it hits me - the house will choose! "Whosoever takes the sword Caladfwlch releases the catch from the stone on the outside gate is the trueborn High King of Briton roommate of 323!"
So now all we have to do is sit back an wait until the house chooses a maternal type orangutan. Life of Pi anyone?