It turns out my admin girl does fancy me after all! Well, that’s my guess!
You see, it takes little persuasion for me to be enticed out of the house. Occasions are rare but usually result in me sitting in a boring pub discussing speed bumps or classic cars with a group of dumb-wits wearing tartan caps and a half dead, deaf, blind and equally as dumb, black Labrador squatting next to them.
So, when I was invited out on an impromptu office 'do' by my sweet and innocent admin girl (we can call her Jenny for now), it took approximately half a millisecond to say yes. It fact, I may have actually said yes before her invitation was even complete.
During the run up to the big night out, I felt as though Jenny was glancing at me and smiling willingly. If I caught her eye and she smiled it was not because she was being sociable to her boss, but because my weak-willed and feeble mind had been taken over by a pubescent schoolboy; she was really trying to tell me that she couldn’t wait to see me next Friday….
Friday came and even though Jenny had shown no prior indication of the slightest interest in a middle aged receding middle manager; I was still petrified of what might happen.
I had already decided how I would turn her down but feel great and self-congratulant that she had tried. This of course, would also need to take place in full view of all, so that I could bask in my own glory. The thought of turning down a girl of 26 was almost as satisfying as giving her a good seeing too. Well maybe not……
The evening rolled on and I started to feel a little uncomfortable and even stupid, surrounded by people half my age, dancing mindlessly, drinking small thimbles of blue sticky juice packaged as vodka and women seemingly in their underwear. What's more, I was unsurprisingly, being ignored by the very girl my imagination had assured me had a schoolgirl crush.
I went to the bar to order a whisky and let the reality of my foolish middle age conundrum wash over me. Here I was, in a nightclub full of rebellious teenagers spending a week’s wages on shots of sick inducing multi-coloured spirits and singing to music that had no apparent tune, reason or actual words!
I looked around and some initial relief turned to disbelief when I saw another man in the club about my age. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, tight black leather trousers, and what seemed like Moccasins. His dancing was so admired by these teenage tearaways that he was creating his own private space around him as he gyrated and gestured to every kind of music the DJ could throw at him in a bemusing ‘John Travolta’ style.
He was obviously the nightclub equivalent of the village idiot who really should have been back at home watching Mid-Summer Murders and so should I.
Seeing this was the shot in the neck I needed. My pubes grew back as fast as they had earlier retreated; I threw back my drink and headed for the exit. Out of the blue, Jenny grabbed me by the arm. She was bleary eyed and smelled of cheap perfume but as she smiled I felt bald down below again.
She spoke to me for a few moments but having asked her to repeat herself several times I became bored, agreed and nodded knowingly. “Yes”, I shouted, as if I could actually hear her tiny voice over the twenty thousand watt speaker sat next to me. Then she grabbed me by the back of the neck and slobbered over me.
Not as pleasant as I had hoped and I was now wearing almost as much make-up as her, but this was the shot in the neck that I needed.