Obviously I wasn't fussed whether Hands would get in touch. I didn't keep checking my phone. I just went about my daily business. I practically forgot I'd even met him again. I mean even if he did ask me out, who says I was going to accept? I probably wouldn't in fact.
Who am I kidding? I was gagging for him to get in touch!
I read an article recently where some professor or other, had written about the fact that we don't get the opportunity to look forward to things anymore, because today we are all about fast fixes and immediacy. He says that it's a real shame, because it is actually good for us to be in a state of anticipation.
That's all very well in theory Mr Professor, but what if you don't know whether the thing you want is even going to happen? What if you spend hours in a heightened state of anticipation and he never flipping calls anyway?!
To make matters worse I'd been through a thing like this before...
It was many moons ago when I was backpacking around Australia (for 'backpacking' read 'travelling with the world's largest suitcase' - so huge that BA threatened me with an excess baggage fee of £360. And instead of 'around Australia' think 'staying in Sydney for a year.')
I'd been working in a Mexican restaurant in order to pay for my hostel in Kings Cross. As fulfilling as it was making margheritas and serving fajitas, I wanted more. And more was what I got when I landed myself a job in the production office for the TV programme Big Brother.
So, I was working my last shift in the restaurant before moving on to pastures new, when in walked my replacement...
Oh me, oh my! Even I would have replaced myself with him! He was drop...dead...gorgeous! And confident with it...as became clear when he came up to me barely an hour into his shift...
'Just wanted to let you know that I'm going to be asking you out at the end of the night. Just haven't decided how I'm going to do it yet...'
Well. My performance at work for the rest of the night was, putting it mildly, crap. I just couldn't concentrate...I was getting my chimichangas confused with my enchiladas...I couldn't wait till the end of the night when the hunk of spunk would be asking me out.
You could say that this proves the Prof's point and that I enjoyed the waiting process. And to be fair I did. But that was then and this is now.
Then, I was quite happy to let some guy, who was quite obviously a player, use some lines on me. (Plus I'm ashamed to admit that we ended up sucking faces at my impromptu leaving party that we had at the end of the shift and from then on were 'seeing each other.' He didn't even have to ask me out!)
Now, I wasn't prepared to be played. If Hands wanted to go out with me he had to get a move on and do it. I decided to give him a small window of time to do so. There was no way I was going through days of..
Will he? Won't he?
He loves me? He loves me not?
It...tit...bird...shit. You are not it!
Well....turns out I was it, cause approximately 24 hours after seeing him (and well within the time-frame!), my phone beeped with the following message...
Hey....so did you meet the man of your dreams in Mojos last night or do you fancy meeting up at some point? x
I sat on my hands for two hours before sending a reply...
No but I met a lovely hand model earlier on in the evening. I'm hoping that he will take me out this week. Will keep you posted...!x
The Hands and Rapunzel saga had begun...