Take Three

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(Continued from Yeah Yeah Yeahs)

He takes my hand, leads me through the crowd.  I trot behind him wearing a silly grin.  This, I tell myself, is normal behaviour; necessary even, given how packed the room is. 

We reach the other side of the dance floor. 

‘I can’t see them,’ he says.

I scan the crowd, looking for his friends. 

‘There.’

We make our way over.  ‘Friends’, it turns out, is actually Friend, singular; the others have disappeared off somewhere.  I stand there sipping my drink whilst the two guys chat.  Friend is probably wondering what the hell I’m doing there, and he’s not the only one.  Two hours ago I was Scottish dancing in a church.  Now I’m drinking gin in a club in Clapham with a guy I kind of know from university – a guy I’ve asked out not once, but twice.

(TO BE CONTINUED)

CC Image courtesy of Mr. T in DC on Flickr



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