Speed Dating London - At the Single Mingle by Kelly Robert

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Page 9 of 12

The bar is surprisingly noisy considering. I take stock, despite the latest revelations our initial encounter has left me wary of Bridget. The wine is coursing through my system, the remnants of my sobriety fighting a rearguard action against the onslaught. I look at my watch 8:40, five more minutes of the break to get through.

“So do you live round here?”

“Not too far, over in Clapham Common.”

“Been there long?”

“A couple of years, I’d like to get a place of my own, but buying or even renting by myself would is really out of my league financially.” This again was something that I could agree with. I had lost count of the amount of times that I had been bored rigid in a pub or at party when acquaintances egos had been as inflated as their house price.

“I know what you mean. The worst thing though is if you don’t own your own place people look at you as if you were some kind of social leper.”

My imagination does a double take as I picture a colony for social lepers, the chronically skint and disenfranchised. “Of course I was ready to buy, but I didn’t think that it was the right time,” would be the phrase on every bodies lips, as they cling to whatever status symbols that remained.

“Here’s to that” says Bridget, and we clink our glasses together, and it’s back to reality

“Time to make your way back to the tables.” It’s the fun-master general giving out the orders, and time to get back into the thick of the fray. The drink I consumed at half time has had time to join forces with rest of the alcohol SAS currently residing in my stomach and I’m now sure they’re about ready to launch ‘Project Oblivion.’ I make my way somewhat unsteadily to my next rendezvous.

The next few tables I make my way through with ease. The wine has had a lubricating effect on my tongue which now seems quite content to piffle away without any real need for conscious thought or control. I have managed to acquire more cigarettes and wine though their origins aren’t exactly clear.

It’s with some surprise that I find myself exchanging phone numbers, well business cards with Rebecca, an attractive girl of close to my own age. Oh well, if we ever go out on a date, I’ll just have to remember to turn up drunk, that has to be the way forward. It occurs to me however, that being in an advanced state of inebriation far from being a localised condition (i.e. just me) is in fact a general trend. The amount of smokers has also increased as reserve and inhibitions have been swept away.

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