Once upon a time, after witnessing me glance mournfully at a pan au chocolat (click right here...), my best friend made it her mission to cheer me up. By this, I mean she morphed into Cupid-gone-wrong and decided to play matchmaker with one of her friends that I hadn't yet had the pleasure of meeting.
I've got to give it to her, my best friend is a woman of devilish persuasion. Prior to meeting Todd (aka single, male friend), he was all she rambled on about, all of the time. In fact, I heard his name so much, and had so many photos of him tossed frantically into my face, that I even started dreaming about him doing nude somersaults. Yup. Before we'd even so much as exchanged a sultry glance, I'd spent an entire night gawping at his flailing genitals. I'm a wild one, me.
After weeks of insisting that it was absolutely never going to work (flailing genitals must be an omen, right?!), I realised that I had nothing to lose, and so, I decided, when he tweeted me asking for my number (romance? dead? As if...), to live on the edge and let him have it. And so, the fun began.
Todd and I began our short adventure by sending each other long-winded, chuckle-erupting messages about all sorts of fine and wonderful things; telescopes, Scrabble, my best friend's devilish persuasion, and The Animals of Farthing Wood proving hot topics. Whilst strangerfolk I've texted before have stuck to more standard conversation topics, I did begin to find Todd's quirkiness, intellect, and appreciation of pompous owls fairly intriguing. I have been known, after all, to like a quirky man, and I have also been known to appreciate a good, pompous owl. I'm a hoot, me.
As Todd and I have a couple of mutual friends, we didn't arrange a 'proper' first date, mainly because we knew, with our shared chum circle, that we were extremely likely to bump into each other at some point very soon, but also because neither of us were particularly willing to wrap up a mutual appreciation of pompous owls as a one way ticket to dating central.
A couple of evenings later, we did bump into each other, and I guess, if you define 'hitting it off' as drinking copious amounts of wine, talking utter goosesticks, and stealing a cheeky little kiss in his kitchen, then yes, hit it off we did. This jolly, vino-fuelled routine continued for a few, consecutive weeks, but despite the fact that the kisses were enjoyable (smooch, smooch), and his jacket was entirely comfortable, relationship-style chemistry just didn't suffice, and there was no desire to keep on chinwagging once the night was over. It was clear, to both of us, that my best friend must have been having a funny five minutes when she thought we'd be holding hands and burning an eternal flame together.
As if to confirm our obvious incompatibility, somewhere amidst the jolly, jubilee weekend, his best friend and mine were getting cosy, and Todd and I were forced into our final rendezvouz, double date stylie; funfair and all. Queen Marge, you deviant, you.
Whilst my best friend and her manfriend strolled slowly, arm in arm, along the seafront, Todd and I skipped along the promenade like a sprightly pair of llamas, keeping a 3 metre distance at all times. Whilst my best friend and her manfriend exchanged flirty, competitive glances and come-hither eyebrows on the bump-a-cars, Todd held his middle finger up at me, whilst I badgered my best friend to crash into his side of the cart, hard. Whilst my best friend and her manfriend kissed on the ferris wheel, Todd sat, rigid, in a state of genuine terror, whilst I mocked him profusely. And whilst my best friend and her manfriend snuggled up in Todd's bed, Todd fell asleep, on the sofa, whilst I smirked in the armchair and tweeted pictures of him half-slobbering in his slumber. Yes folks, it's safe to say, that it just wasn't meant to be.
Whilst I was a little surprised at my best friend's awful Cupid skills (compatibility, what the devil is compatibility?!), I can't thank her enough for being so hideously bad at finding me a man, because jay zeus and fiddlesticks, the whole fiasco really cheered me up. Todd was a very welcome distraction at a time when my life was about as exciting as a mound of gravel, and he made me endlessly chuckle with his unorthodox thought processes and inability to beat me at half-drunk clapping games.
Oh, and his face on the ferris wheel... Best. Thing. Ever.
Has your best friend ever played Cupid?! Did it work, or did you too have an incompatibility spectacular?!