Wedding blues
Went to a beautiful wedding on Saturday. I decided since it was a sweltering day that I wouldn't cross town in my suit but would take it with me in a suit bag and change at the hotel. I changed in the room of one of my friends who was staying at the hotel.
When I got downstairs my ex was waiting for me. I knew she was going to be there as we originally met through the people who were today getting married. In fact the bride had called me to ask how we were getting on and whether I would mind being on the same table as her. I said of course not we get on fine.
The wedding was as all weddings. The bride looked wonderful, the food was good, the drink was better. We sat through the speeches which ranged from the sublime to the substandard. I got reasonably drunk. Danced with some gorgeous women. Watched A dance with the brides brother (a lot). Felt a bit maudlin. Wrote a lot of (very bad) poetry on napkins.
My friend came to say that since it was now 1am he was going to bed did I want to come get my bag or have him bring it in to work on Monday. I opted for the latter.
Then A dissappeared with her bloke. I decided I'd drunk too much and got slightly emotional. I know I'm not going to get back together with A but still I was upset. I was writing her a note before I left (Hope you had fun. Am off now. David) whn she showed up again.
She wanted me to walk her to Waterloo which I did. The trains were all canceled and the buses too busy. She didn't have the money for a cab so I paid for her. I'm such a doormat when it comes to this girl.
I got in my taxi and got home to the realisation that my keys were in my jeans in the hotel. I panicked and chased the cab that I'd just got out of. A has a set of my keys which she has always forgotten to return to me. So in my drunken state I instructed the cab driver to take me to Wimbledon. We'd got about two miles when I decided that this was a stupid idea. My phone was dead so I couldn't call her to tell her I was coming and I didn't know exactly where her house was. I paid the taxi driver (again) and started walking back to my flat.
My theory was that I could break in. So I was walking along collecting pieces of wire and sticks. I got back and completely failed to break in, which I guess is a good thing.
I couldn't sleep on the step in my suit so I headed back out into New Cross. On the way I walked into a lamp post. Catching myself so hard that I've still got a massive bruise on the side of my head.
I spent all the change I had in my pockets trying unsuccessfully to get the number of a friend (any friend) out of directory inquiries. My mobile by this point was doing its best impression of a stone.
I was staggering down New Cross Road when I saw a rastafarian driving a cab. On the assumption that I'd be better off driving where ever I was heading (I had no idea at this point) I hailed the cab. I got in and decided on a destination of Clapham.
I got to Clapham in the hope that norantiskitchen was in. She was, she seemed not to mind me showing up drunk, bruised and in a bad way at 3 in the morning. She steered me to a sofa and a glass of water and left me til the morning. I stole miss_newham's keys to my flat (so useful having a cleaner who is also your friend). And eventually got home at 2pm on Sunday.
When I got downstairs my ex was waiting for me. I knew she was going to be there as we originally met through the people who were today getting married. In fact the bride had called me to ask how we were getting on and whether I would mind being on the same table as her. I said of course not we get on fine.
The wedding was as all weddings. The bride looked wonderful, the food was good, the drink was better. We sat through the speeches which ranged from the sublime to the substandard. I got reasonably drunk. Danced with some gorgeous women. Watched A dance with the brides brother (a lot). Felt a bit maudlin. Wrote a lot of (very bad) poetry on napkins.
My friend came to say that since it was now 1am he was going to bed did I want to come get my bag or have him bring it in to work on Monday. I opted for the latter.
Then A dissappeared with her bloke. I decided I'd drunk too much and got slightly emotional. I know I'm not going to get back together with A but still I was upset. I was writing her a note before I left (Hope you had fun. Am off now. David) whn she showed up again.
She wanted me to walk her to Waterloo which I did. The trains were all canceled and the buses too busy. She didn't have the money for a cab so I paid for her. I'm such a doormat when it comes to this girl.
I got in my taxi and got home to the realisation that my keys were in my jeans in the hotel. I panicked and chased the cab that I'd just got out of. A has a set of my keys which she has always forgotten to return to me. So in my drunken state I instructed the cab driver to take me to Wimbledon. We'd got about two miles when I decided that this was a stupid idea. My phone was dead so I couldn't call her to tell her I was coming and I didn't know exactly where her house was. I paid the taxi driver (again) and started walking back to my flat.
My theory was that I could break in. So I was walking along collecting pieces of wire and sticks. I got back and completely failed to break in, which I guess is a good thing.
I couldn't sleep on the step in my suit so I headed back out into New Cross. On the way I walked into a lamp post. Catching myself so hard that I've still got a massive bruise on the side of my head.
I spent all the change I had in my pockets trying unsuccessfully to get the number of a friend (any friend) out of directory inquiries. My mobile by this point was doing its best impression of a stone.
I was staggering down New Cross Road when I saw a rastafarian driving a cab. On the assumption that I'd be better off driving where ever I was heading (I had no idea at this point) I hailed the cab. I got in and decided on a destination of Clapham.
I got to Clapham in the hope that norantiskitchen was in. She was, she seemed not to mind me showing up drunk, bruised and in a bad way at 3 in the morning. She steered me to a sofa and a glass of water and left me til the morning. I stole miss_newham's keys to my flat (so useful having a cleaner who is also your friend). And eventually got home at 2pm on Sunday.