Kiss & Go

I finally caught up with the lovely leaving lady at around 3 in the morning - in Bed (not as exciting as it sounds; the deliberately innuendo-laden name of a trendy local nightspot). The police had closed down her house party shortly after I had tried and failed to get in touch with any of the people I was supposed to have gone with.... so I hadn't really missed out on anything.

A five-second dance, a hug and a cheek-kiss, and I was on my way again. I hope she wasn't too disappointed at the tokenism of this...... but I was completely wrecked by that point.

I was already well-oiled from a beer-lubricated late supper - and then a ridiculously over-generous slug of malt Scotch at the new Andingmen music bar. Then I stopped in at the Pool Bar on the way home. My sometime pool-playing buddy, DS, was in there, so we exchanged a few drinks. Then another guy I know slightly wandered in off the street (editor of one of the expat listings mags); he bought a bottle of JD, poured me a huge one from it, and promptly disappeared again.....

So, by the time I finally caught up with the gorgeous departing one, I was in the floaty zone, and thought it prudent to continue on my way home before I did anything to seriously embarrass myself. (Such as making a pass at an utterly gorgeous woman who I barely know and is far too young for me and is so far out of my league and is leaving the country the next day anyway...... you know the kind of thing.)