Just a jealous guy…

Sorry I’ve been M.I.A. – it was a long weekend and I essentially declared war on my liver for three days.

One of the skirmishes involved the Triathlete.

So we were meant to go out on Saturday night – I’d even booked a bloody table at a semi-pretentious cocktail bar – but at 11am on the day, I received a text saying he couldn’t get out of the party he was going to cancel on in order to go out with me, Could we reschedule?


I replied as per the book – petulantly.

“That’s such a shame as I was so looking forward to seeing you. Well, am now all booked up through next weekend so rescheduling may be tricky…”

I proceeded to go for an extremely long and pleasant run, eat a muffin, and make plans to see my friend Toffee instead.

Seven hours after my response (SEVEN HOURS?) Triathlete replied saying he was gutted because he was ”really keen” to see me (where had all this keenness been over the past month? Where?). He then proceeded to say he could probably get out of this party early and could meet me afterwards. I explained that I had now made plans to have a drink with a friend but he was welcome to join us.

This was actually perfect. The book encourages you to see your suitor in group situations so he can watch you shine in all your socially-adept glory (or, in my case, watch me drink a whole lot of Jack Daniels with my extremely lovely and shinier-than-me friend).

Toffee and I went to my favourite neighborhood shithole where we proceeded to hide ourselves away at a back table and pour red wine down our throats like it was going out of style. When Triathlete joined us, we were onto action point three of Solving All the World’s Problems. Pleasantries were exchanged. Within minutes of him sitting down, an extremely pilled-up fellow came up to the table and asked if we’d like to hear a poem he’d wrote.

“Sure!” Toffee and I chorused. Triathlete nodded imperceptibly.

The pilled-up man proceeded to regale us with several (surprisingly rather good) poems. And then a Billy Connolly impersonation. And then a couple of tricks with his trilby.

Forty-five minutes passed.

At one point, the pilled-up man asked the Triathlete which one of us he was with and he gestured towards me with his thumb.

“That one.”

Yep! That one indeed.

And then something rather strange happened. It’s fair to say that it was extremely obvious to anyone NOT on a massive amount of drugs that the pilled-up man would make a rather unsuitable suitor but the more he talked, the more proprietary Triathlete became over me. At one point, he leaned over and, nodding towards pilled-up man, said, “I’m going to have to pretend that you’re my girlfriend.” Seriously dude? I can assure you that the pilled-up man certainly wasn’t making any overtures towards me; he was too busy gurning his face off.  But suddenly, the chivalrous, complimentary Triathlete from last month returned with a vengeance. There was hand holding and admiring glances and more compliments than I could shake a stick at. Poor Toffee was left to field the pilled-up man largely on her own because I was too busy saying thank you and being distracted by the hand on my thigh.

So apparently book’s theory that you can (and should!) incite jealousy in your suitor just by looking at another man (or, in this case, by politely listening to his drug-fuelled poetry) is spot on.

I’ve got to hand it to the guy – I essentially invited him to gatecrash a girls’ night in the dirtiest bar in London and proceeded to get blindingly drunk and befriend a crazed drug fiend and he handled the whole thing with relative aplomb. And I forced him to meet flatmate in the morning and he was lovely and charming (and managed to hide his disgust and despair when surveying the state of our flat).

Let’s just see if it takes him another month to get a burst of chivalry.

Ah, and I know it’s 1st September and therefore should be rules change day but as I started late with this book due to the parental visit, I’m going to extend The Technique until the end of the week. But I’ve got the next book all picked out and I think it’s going to be a doozy…

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