Sunday night. I finish the ironing at 10.15 p.m. and instead of packing up and going to bed which would have been normal, I put on my tightest jeans and some extra slap and shoot down Maida Vale to The Good Ship pub in Kilburn to see my friend’s son playing in his first gig.
My FBA (Fit Bloke Alert) goes off as soon as I walk in. Amongst the assembled fan base is a fine-looking, young specimen with a ponytail (yeah, I know) looking daggers at three blondes chatting loudly at the bar. Their giggling is both dissing and drowning out the singer. I squeeze into a seat nearby and eye-candy him on and off whilst listening to the music. Ponytail has an almost perfect profile. Large eyes, long lashes, straight nose, good jaw, flawless skin. My fawning admiration catches his attention. I don’t look away, but, in order to bond, I cock my head towards the noisy girls and pull a face. He nods in agreement and chemistry along with contact is established.
When the singer finishes his set, My Little Ponytail (MLP) gets up to go to the bar, and almost as an afterthought turns and offers me a drink.
‘Why don’t I buy you one?’ I suggest, trying to lead as usual.
‘I’m offering you a drink!’ he replies assertively which I like, so I smile sweetly and say:
‘V & T please’ relinquishing control for once.
By the time he returns, another young buck has moved in. It’s the singer’s flat mate who’s also on the right side of gorgeous and I notice MLP’s face drop as he hovers nearby holding the drinks. I beckon him closer and pat the empty chair on the other side of me. Looking somewhat relieved, he sits down and his leg lolls languidly against mine. I don’t move away.