A very good non-date, and an irked partner
Here in Barton it is morning. A distant cow moos, whilst a more distant moose cowers. Hello.
Drove to Emma's from the university yesterday. Landed at 6:30pm - as planned. One car already on the drive - not as had been expected. On getting out of the car I see a flash (not literally) of female at the downstairs window. "Ah, that'll be Emma" I say to myself, and I flick an idle "hello" wave in that direction. As soon as my hand is committed to the wave it dawns on me that that's not Emma's hair, face, head, body or Emma at all. Oh Christly Christ how embarrassing. Whoever it is now thinks I'm some happy-go-looney eccentric. A slightly blushed self knocks at the door. A laughing Emma greets me. And introduces her sister. We hello each other. "Come in come in" speaks Emma. So in I come. And she leans in and whispers "I assure you this is not ordinary". Again, I'm having one of those "What the f*&% does that mean?" moments. Then all becomes clear. We find ourselves in the doorway to the dining room, and what had been the distant piano playing is explained. A big bald man with ferocious beard turns, and nods a greeting - whilst playing throughout. A boy and his father (Alex and Ed respectively) dine. Emma speaks to the four members of the household who I had not expected to be met by "Everyone, this is Shane. Shane, this is my Dad [on piano, another nod], Alex [chomping boy] and Ed [turns and extends hand for shaking, I shake it]. We're off now, see you later". And we're gone. I am amused and bemused - had expected a simple "Hello, let's go". As we step into the car I let it be known that "I thought your sister was you", this is met with laughter and "I know, she said".
In the car en route to Friarton we chat idly about the day we'd just had, all very convivial. We don't need the radio on so it's left off. And Emma jokes "I'd better warn you, I'm almost pissed, I had a glass of wine when I was getting ready". She does look stunning, but not pissed. 20 minutes later we're in Friarton - 40 minutes ahead of our booking time. We decide to drop into a local bar - neither of us know the town very well. The bar is empty, we each have a large glass of wine - 'twill be my only alcohol of the evening. Talk throughout is easy, though I become more convinced that the "I'm almost pissed" joke was the "I'm not joking" kind of joke. We eventually move on to the restaurant (20 minutes late). Given our mis-matched states of sobriety I decide that this is not the occasion for making further enquiries re the state of Ed and Emma's relationship, or comments about the levels of flirting and easy affection that had been exchanged between us. The thing was, to little old me, from the word go, this had - and still was - looking like a date, and from what I could see, Ed was fine with this. Had Emma and Ed already split-up and "moved on"? Surely not.
The evening went on to feature good food, not much more drink, and engaging and entertaining chit-chat. Upon leaving Friarton (10:50pm) Emma stated "I don't want to go home yet". Thus, we called in at the shared chateau, here in Barton, for a cup of tea. Upon stepping indoors I recognised that the analysis had begun. Ms Emma badgered about the place - keenly eyeing all. This was the first occasion of her being at my house. She was given the grand tour, during which she settled herself on my bed and started to comment on the kitschy decor. I joined her and we chatted on. This was all very comfortable. Then (at 12:10am) her phone rang, and she did speak "Yes, I'm just at Shane's having a cup of tea, I'll be back in 15 minutes". And at that moment I realised that there certainly had been no split-up, and that Ed was a rightly irked partner at that moment. I drove Emma back to her home and enquired "Will he be angry?" "Oh I don't know, he'll probably save it for in the morning, I'll be asleep in 10 minutes" "You can tell him I'm gay" I offered (not anticipating further Ed encounters), to which a very firm "No" was returned. Compliments were exchanged. I returned to Barton and slept.
Drove to Emma's from the university yesterday. Landed at 6:30pm - as planned. One car already on the drive - not as had been expected. On getting out of the car I see a flash (not literally) of female at the downstairs window. "Ah, that'll be Emma" I say to myself, and I flick an idle "hello" wave in that direction. As soon as my hand is committed to the wave it dawns on me that that's not Emma's hair, face, head, body or Emma at all. Oh Christly Christ how embarrassing. Whoever it is now thinks I'm some happy-go-looney eccentric. A slightly blushed self knocks at the door. A laughing Emma greets me. And introduces her sister. We hello each other. "Come in come in" speaks Emma. So in I come. And she leans in and whispers "I assure you this is not ordinary". Again, I'm having one of those "What the f*&% does that mean?" moments. Then all becomes clear. We find ourselves in the doorway to the dining room, and what had been the distant piano playing is explained. A big bald man with ferocious beard turns, and nods a greeting - whilst playing throughout. A boy and his father (Alex and Ed respectively) dine. Emma speaks to the four members of the household who I had not expected to be met by "Everyone, this is Shane. Shane, this is my Dad [on piano, another nod], Alex [chomping boy] and Ed [turns and extends hand for shaking, I shake it]. We're off now, see you later". And we're gone. I am amused and bemused - had expected a simple "Hello, let's go". As we step into the car I let it be known that "I thought your sister was you", this is met with laughter and "I know, she said".
In the car en route to Friarton we chat idly about the day we'd just had, all very convivial. We don't need the radio on so it's left off. And Emma jokes "I'd better warn you, I'm almost pissed, I had a glass of wine when I was getting ready". She does look stunning, but not pissed. 20 minutes later we're in Friarton - 40 minutes ahead of our booking time. We decide to drop into a local bar - neither of us know the town very well. The bar is empty, we each have a large glass of wine - 'twill be my only alcohol of the evening. Talk throughout is easy, though I become more convinced that the "I'm almost pissed" joke was the "I'm not joking" kind of joke. We eventually move on to the restaurant (20 minutes late). Given our mis-matched states of sobriety I decide that this is not the occasion for making further enquiries re the state of Ed and Emma's relationship, or comments about the levels of flirting and easy affection that had been exchanged between us. The thing was, to little old me, from the word go, this had - and still was - looking like a date, and from what I could see, Ed was fine with this. Had Emma and Ed already split-up and "moved on"? Surely not.
The evening went on to feature good food, not much more drink, and engaging and entertaining chit-chat. Upon leaving Friarton (10:50pm) Emma stated "I don't want to go home yet". Thus, we called in at the shared chateau, here in Barton, for a cup of tea. Upon stepping indoors I recognised that the analysis had begun. Ms Emma badgered about the place - keenly eyeing all. This was the first occasion of her being at my house. She was given the grand tour, during which she settled herself on my bed and started to comment on the kitschy decor. I joined her and we chatted on. This was all very comfortable. Then (at 12:10am) her phone rang, and she did speak "Yes, I'm just at Shane's having a cup of tea, I'll be back in 15 minutes". And at that moment I realised that there certainly had been no split-up, and that Ed was a rightly irked partner at that moment. I drove Emma back to her home and enquired "Will he be angry?" "Oh I don't know, he'll probably save it for in the morning, I'll be asleep in 10 minutes" "You can tell him I'm gay" I offered (not anticipating further Ed encounters), to which a very firm "No" was returned. Compliments were exchanged. I returned to Barton and slept.
posted by Shane @ 7:25 am
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