Friday 18 December 2009

The Right Match?

We walked through the doors and into the busy bar, glad to be out of the cold December's breeze. As our bags were checked, a tall Asian guy approached us and asked us if we'd been here before. "Yes", I replied and reached out to take the padlock he handed me. It wasn't the first padlock party that I had been to, and though I didn't think it had as much potential as speed dating, I was willing to give the event another chance. For those who are slightly unsure as to what this is - the rules are simple; the girls get the padlocks, the boys get the keys - and then it's just a matter of trying to find the right match and some chemistry. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't expecting the night to be particularly interesting and was more excited about the Christmas decor around the bar and the hours of dancing that we were planning to indulge in. Funnily enough, it turned into quite an interesting night in the end - three guys managed to unlock my padlock and by the time the after party started, we were mingling away with some of London's strangest men..

The Boy With The Very Straight Hair
With a perfectly made mojito in our hands, we stood by a small table taking in the crowd when we were approached by two guys holding keys. We made a little small talk before they asked for our padlocks. When one of the guys (one with peculiarly straight hair) managed to unlock mine, we both looked at each other excitedly. This meant raffle tickets (for getting a match) and also a new padlock and key for each of us. I learnt that his name was 'G' (am not quite sure what it was short for) and as we continued to talk for a little longer, I noticed that he would never look at me directly. He seemed to have this habit of looking to the right so all I could really see was the side of his face. He then asked me how old I thought he was and when I guessed a younger age, he told me that people always think that and explained how he is proud of his youthful skin and boyish look. I nodded my head and listened to him go through various occasions where he had been ID'd at bars and in shops. At this point, I was losing interest and looked around the room for an escape route. When I said that I had to get back to my friend, he looked directly at me and said, "So what's your number then?" My response was a light hearted comment about not giving my number out to strangers, and I picked up my glass to make a move. He told me to stop playing games and asked for my number a second time, to which again, I refused. "Well, I bet I don't even remember your name", he said and started to walk away. He then turned around and 'guessed' my name correctly. I nodded my head, slightly confused and said, "And what was your name? F..H..", "Yeah that's right", he replied "My name's GHD", he continued, and then ran a hand through his very straight hair smugly. I turned away and walked to the bar - time for another drink I think.

The Boy Who Just Wanted to Have Fun
Whilst scanning the room for potentials, I noticed a rather good looking guy standing at the side of the dance floor. He was in a smart black shirt and jeans and was talking to a shorter, dark haired guy in a similar outfit. I turned away to talk to my friend, but before I could say anything, we heard the beginning of the next song, and excitedly made our way to the dance floor. As we stopped to let someone else pass, I looked up and found myself standing by his side. He looked at me and smiled. By this point, I'd had enough cocktails to boost my confidence, and the usual side effect of verbal diarrhea was fighting its way through. I returned his smile and asked him if he was having a good time tonight. "No." He replied, wiping the smile off my face. "I'm pissed off...I thought there would be an equal number of girls and guys, but there are no girls here." He said angrily. I looked around the room, and for the first time, I noticed that he was right. There were definitely more guys in the bar than girls - something which seldom happens. "I've been single for three months you know." He continued. "Oh, okay.." I replied, quite unsure what else to say. "Why did you break up?" I asked, not really expecting a response. "She wanted to get married..but I didn't want that." He answered. "Oh, okay.." I repeated slowly. I wasn't quite sure whether I should walk away before he started volunteering any more information about his personal life, but I couldn't resist pointing out that the majority of the girls he'd find here were probably looking for some sort of long term relationship or commitment. "Well, I just want to have a bit of fun," he sulked. "What's so wrong with that?" He said, before he drank the last drop of his Stella and walked towards a girl dancing provocatively in a t-shirt sized dress.

The Boy Who Didn't Believe
After much dancing, we stood at the bar, waiting to place our order for much needed refreshments. "Hi." The guy standing next to me said. "Hi." I replied with a smile. He introduced himself to me and then looked at me inquisitively. "Are you Indian?" He asked. "Yes," I replied. I was quite used to being asked this question so wasn't particularly offended, though I was slightly put off by the way he continued to stare at me. "Even if you weren't, it doesn't really matter - so you can tell me if you're not. You see I don't believe in religion or castes or anything. I think it's all about the person. I mean if I liked you and you liked me and you weren't Indian, then we could still be together - it wouldn't really matter." He went on. "So do you want to dance?" He asked, placing a hand on my elbow as if to lead me onto the dance floor. "I'm just going to get a drink." I said, moving my elbow and taking a step closer to the bar top. "Don't you want to dance with me?" He asked intensely. I apologised and explained again that I wanted a drink. "Maybe I'll find you on the dance floor later." I suggested half heartedly. "Whatever," he replied. "I bet you're not even Indian." He said bitterly and walked away as I stood at the bar, slightly baffled.

At the end of the night, as we collected our coats, and put on our beloved folding shoes (perhaps the best invention ever made by man), we discussed the night's events and found ourselves laughing at some of the lines, conversations and unique dance moves we'd been surrounded by in the last five hours. Perhaps neither of us had met our prince charming on the night, but for the first time in a while, I really enjoyed living a night on the town as a single girl out to party.