Got into Dublin about 6:30 and dropped my stuff off with the brother. Also gave him DVDs with every episode of Heroes and Veronica Mars that has ever aired, which made him a happy chappie. Then met up with Merekat for pints and tapas.
Since the accidental bebo invite incident, I'd emailed the ex and we patched things up the the point where we are on speaking terms again. I also mentioned to her that I was going to be at the gig that she was going to. While Merekat and I were eating, I started getting texts. The Ex and her new fella were already there and apparently the support was crap.
Got to the gig, got pints and tried to find some standing room - the place was packed. We started off on the left side of the stage, but that wasn't really working for us, so we tried the right hand side, going via the bar. That seemed a bit better, and in time, as people went out to the bar, we edged our way closer to the stage. Eventually, we hit the sweet spot where we were quite close to the stage, and were we to go any further, the viewing angle would start to dis-improve, so we held our ground.
At which point, I got a tap on the shoulder. From the Ex. I swear, you couldn't actually script it. According to Merekat, Body Language Expert, the whole thing looked pretty much inappropriate from the get go. Which is to say, it reminded me of the time I accidentally ended up sitting in on the Ex's first date with the current guy. After a while, the Ex was heading out for a fag and asked if I wanted to join her. This is obviously the point where I subconsciously sabotage the evening - it was never going to end well once the two of us left the room together.
We sat outside and chatted over a cigarette, and as we finished, I got up to head back inside, and she lit up another one... All told, by the time we headed back in, 4 fags had been smoked, plus there had been a lengthy period wherein I was trying to convince her that it was rude to stay out there leaving our guests twiddling their thumbs. In theory, I could have just gone in myself, but see the earlier bit about subconscious sabotage and making my life needlessly complicated.
By the time we actually headed in, the gig was over, and the bouncers weren't even leaving us back into the auditorium. The Ex had gone a different route, via the bathrooms and actually gained re-entrance a little while before I did and so was with her fella by the time I got back, to a rather amused/bemused looking Merekat.
They left a few minutes ahead of us, but that didn't stop them being a mere 20 yards ahead of us when we got out onto the street. So we did the sensible thing and hid in a side alley for a while.
Now, if I were in the shoes of the Ex, I would try to avoid any and all reference to me for the remainder of the evening while in the company of the fella. Which is why the phone call I got from her 15 minutes later seemed so strange. Apparently she was looking for suggestions for a late bar.
I was pretty glad to hop on the train home this morning.
Since the accidental bebo invite incident, I'd emailed the ex and we patched things up the the point where we are on speaking terms again. I also mentioned to her that I was going to be at the gig that she was going to. While Merekat and I were eating, I started getting texts. The Ex and her new fella were already there and apparently the support was crap.
Got to the gig, got pints and tried to find some standing room - the place was packed. We started off on the left side of the stage, but that wasn't really working for us, so we tried the right hand side, going via the bar. That seemed a bit better, and in time, as people went out to the bar, we edged our way closer to the stage. Eventually, we hit the sweet spot where we were quite close to the stage, and were we to go any further, the viewing angle would start to dis-improve, so we held our ground.
At which point, I got a tap on the shoulder. From the Ex. I swear, you couldn't actually script it. According to Merekat, Body Language Expert, the whole thing looked pretty much inappropriate from the get go. Which is to say, it reminded me of the time I accidentally ended up sitting in on the Ex's first date with the current guy. After a while, the Ex was heading out for a fag and asked if I wanted to join her. This is obviously the point where I subconsciously sabotage the evening - it was never going to end well once the two of us left the room together.
We sat outside and chatted over a cigarette, and as we finished, I got up to head back inside, and she lit up another one... All told, by the time we headed back in, 4 fags had been smoked, plus there had been a lengthy period wherein I was trying to convince her that it was rude to stay out there leaving our guests twiddling their thumbs. In theory, I could have just gone in myself, but see the earlier bit about subconscious sabotage and making my life needlessly complicated.
By the time we actually headed in, the gig was over, and the bouncers weren't even leaving us back into the auditorium. The Ex had gone a different route, via the bathrooms and actually gained re-entrance a little while before I did and so was with her fella by the time I got back, to a rather amused/bemused looking Merekat.
They left a few minutes ahead of us, but that didn't stop them being a mere 20 yards ahead of us when we got out onto the street. So we did the sensible thing and hid in a side alley for a while.
Now, if I were in the shoes of the Ex, I would try to avoid any and all reference to me for the remainder of the evening while in the company of the fella. Which is why the phone call I got from her 15 minutes later seemed so strange. Apparently she was looking for suggestions for a late bar.
I was pretty glad to hop on the train home this morning.
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