A dialogue between my Catholic upbrining and my hornier half (which really is more like my hornier four fifths), with periodic interruptions from my mouth and the man of my dreams...
hh: oh yeah, work it baby; bust a move; swing those hips - you know you're on tonight!
cu: for fuck's sake, you're a disgrace. dancing in a club, half drunk. and that top! if you're parents could see you now...
hh: they'd be CRACKING UP! and not bothered in the least. piss off: i'm having FUN.
hh: that blonde-ish bloke over there is rather attractive...
cu: which one?
hh: butt out; i wasn't talking to you.
but since you asked... the crazy tall one, the strawberry-blonde with the blue eyes in the black shirt, stading by the bar next to the short, freckly dude. don't you think he's rather fit?
cu: mm. i suppose so.
hh: hey, gorgeous! why don't you come over here and get your groove going with me?
hh: for the last time, I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU! I'm winking at that blonde bloke!
hh: he's grinning like a fool, and he hasn't taken his eyes off me for the last 3 songs. he's gonna need visene if he doesn't blink soon. and no wonder - have you seen me in this top?! Why the fuck isn't he coming over here?
cu: don't be such a retard. go talk to him if you're so taken.
hh: fuck off. i didn't ask for your advice. and i've been rejected too many times. i'm not doing any more chasing - it's time i was chased.
cu: that's the first rational thing you've said all night.
hh: CHASED, you moron, not chaste. i've made it obvious i'm interested. if it's mutual, he can get his hot ass over here and wiggle it to... jesus, what is this crap? if the dj weren't so cute i'd shoot him.
cu: oh so now it's the dj is it? get yourself under control, woman.
hh: it was just an expression. and for fuck's sake, GO AWAY! it's my birthday and i'm determined to counteract the contemplation of my age and mortality by spending one night acting like a drunk undergrad out on the pull, something i never once did as an undergrad, so it's about time i regained the youth i never used before it's too late, which it probably is.
cu: you don't need to fear death, you know. if you believe in the salvation of jes...
hh: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! i cant HE-AR you!!!! la la la la la la...!!!
Ohh! did you see that? his mate pushed him out onto the dance floor. he's coming over here! whoo-hoo!!!!!!!!
mouth: hi. what's your name?
mouth: hi scott. i'm chaucer's bitch.
hh: he's not a very good dancer, is he? he know's where the beat is, and can put his feet down, but he has no idea what to do with the rest of his gorgeous, gargantuan body. and what a body...
cu: that's not a very christian thing to say.
scott: sorry, i'm not very good at this.
mouth: that's ok; you're scoring points for fearlessness.
scott: really? alright! (proceeds to up the intesity of rediculous bodily gyrations and make total twat of self for about 10 seconds, laughing.)
hh: oh, jesus christ!
cu: i heard that!
hh: fuck off.
mouth (several songs later): this is shit. you wanna get a drink and talk a bit?
scott (relieved): Yes! (at bar): what would you like?
hh: i thought he endured that rather well, don't you?
cu: with great forbearance and alcohol.
(mouth and scott proceed to chat with ease and without interruption until bouncers start ordering them to finish drinks and get the fuck out so they can go home.)
hh: this is going rather well. actually, this is going extremely well. come to think of it, this is going better than anything has ever gone before, ever. nicely done, mouth.
scott: the night's still young. you wanna go someplace else?
cu: well, alright, if it's someplace public.
scott: what else is still open around here? i don't know the city...
mouth: me neither. let's ask Flatmate. Oi! Flatmate! Anyplace around here have an all-night licence?
Flatmate: i don't know, but i've been chatting with this bloke who owns a local club. he's the man to ask. Oi! Clubowner! Anyone around here got an all-night?
hh: double fuck.
hh: ha! i heard that!
cu: you heard nothing.
Flatmate: of course, Chantry Court is still open. It's not much for ambiance, and the drinks selection is limited, but it's quiet and safe. *winks*
hh: true, but if i invite him back to the flat, will he defacto expect me to sleep with him?
cu: a real gentleman would never expect a woman to invite him to bed on the first night, and if he does he's an asshole.
hh: that may be true back home, but things are different here. i don't know how it works here. perhaps mouth should say "i'd love for you to come up for a nightcap, but i don't shag on the first date."
cu: no, that's tacky, and it makes you sound cold. and what if he's offended that you would even assume that's all he wants?
mouth: well, would you like to come by my flat for a cup of coffee or something? i don't have much in the way of drinks, but...
scott: sure, that sounds nice.
hh: oh my god we've just invited a man up to our flat!!! holy shit we've never done that before!!! and he said yes!!! this is the best birthday EVER.
cu: oh my god we've just invited a man up to our falt, and he said yes. call out the national guard.
stomach (shouting in a general upwards direction): did one of you renobs just issue the command for all the resident butterflies to leave their perhes simultaneously and flap about like drag queens on speed? there's a chain of command here, you know. i need to be made aware of these things at least 24 hours in advance! jesus christ!...
cu: i heard that!
stomach: fuck off, you.
mouth: here we are: my humble camode. sorry about the mess - i really wasn't expecting company... but i'm glad you're here.
scott: me too.
mouth: would you like something to drink? we're all out of the hard stuff, but i've got tea, coffee, hot cocoa...
scott: tea, thanks.
narrator: over the next two hours it is revealed that scott, who has yet to stop grinning like a fool and whose eyes sparkle like the 4th of july, works in IT for SKY tv, and is in town on business, and is leaving tomorrow afternoon. he lives in Glasgow.
hh: GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!!! i KNEW there had to be a catch! If something seems too good to be true, it probably is. There's no way I could ever possibly have been this lucky. He's articulate, easy-going, smart, attractive, IS TALKING TO ME, seems to really have his shit together, seems attractracted to me, plays the bagpipes, enjoys scottish folk dancing, hiking, really digs my alternative lifestyle... he seems really nice. i like him, i mean i genuinely like him. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!!!! THIS ISN'T FAIR!!!!!!
cu: i'm sorry, hh. i know you were really excited (not in that way). it did seem like a really good thing.
hh: he's not making any noises about leaving, and it's 4:30 in the morning. is he waiting for me to ask him to stay?
cu: he does seem rather reluctant to leave.
hh: but what does that signify? does he really dig me? or does he just want a shag?
cu: does it matter?
hh: amazingly, yes.
cu: i'm proud of you, hh.
mouth: well, it's awfully late. i'm sure you want to get some sleep before your flight tomorrow.
narrator: scott, looking slightly crestfallen, gets up off the sofa and crosses the room to where CB is standing, leaning with her butt against the kitchen counter. he stands very close to her, though he has made no previous attempt to initiate physical contact.
scott: how about a kiss before i go?
mouth: with pleasure...
hh: (gasping) sweet mercy!... i had no idea. no wonder eveyone makes such a fuss. no one's ever kissed us like that. what arms! i feel surrounded, enveloped. this is amazing. i had no idea... Oh not the neck! oh, god don't stop!
cu: did you hear that, hh?
hh: hear what? i can't hear anything over the heavy breathing.
cu: it sounded like a moan.
hh: from whom?
cu: i can't even tell!
hh: i really like him, cu.
cu: i know.
hh: i'll probably never see him again. it's now or never.
hh: i've been waiting for this for a really, really long time.
cu: no one can deny it.
hh: he would stay if i asked.
cu: no doubt.
hh: don't i deserve it?
cu: that and more.
hh: why am i hesitating?
cu: because you want more than just to be some bird he shagged once on a business trip.
hh: i hate it when you're right.
*sights* the question is, was that a light at the end of the tunnel, or did i just stand on the platform while the one and only train left the station? nay, actually ask the engineer to pull out.
narrator: thus ended the best birthday of all time. it had the dichotomous effect of both heartening cb by proving beyond a doubt that it is theorhetically possible for a man to find her attractive (which heretofore had been a matter of considerable debate), and simultaneously sending her crashing into a fresh pit of thick despair as the following day it slowly began to sink it just how much she may have lost. Now she carries her mobile with her everywhere just in case he should happen to ring, but each silent minute another drop of hope leaks out of the bucket and disappears into the pavement. Happy 27th, Bitch.