Tonight, we went to The Jazz Bar-- a really lovely jazz place that I've been wanting to go to since February but just had never gotten around to it. It was supposed to be a large group thing, but it turned out to be only the girls, Scott and Richy, and Tom McWilliam. I'm sure Tom must've wanted to punch himself in the face for being stuck with us for the night, but I really enjoyed his company. He's going home for work placement on the tenth, and I probably won't be seeing him again. It meant a lot to me that he came out. Every time I hang out with him, I want to tell him that I wish I had gotten a chance to know him better. But perhaps it won't be the last time I see him... so I shouldn't say things like that.
After some drinks and my first taste of Guinness (thanks Tom!), Dan and Claire showed up, and we decided to make a break for Cab Vol before it closed. Not so surprisingly, the club was empty. Dan spotted a guy in goofy glasses and plaid... and so I danced with him (obviously). He asked me to go outside for a smoke, and I was surprised to find he was actually really lovely.
His name was Andy, and he was from Liverpool. Andy and I decided to make a break for it and had the most smashing drunken walk home, perhaps in all of history. I brought him back to my flat only to find my roommates had spotted Andy and I and had filmed us the whole way home.
PUNK'D.
Anyway, Andy and I spent a really lovely night together, and I was truly sad when he left in the morning. We smoked cigarettes as the sun came up and talked a lot about our families and music. He made me laugh so, so much, and I felt really comfortable around him. That's pretty rare-- at least for me.
I gave him my number, but he never called. I'd like to think it's just because he's going back to Liverpool on Saturday, but it probably was a true diss. Typical behavior from a not-so-typical guy.
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