Mahinda’s Little World

So, I’ve finished filming at Howell’s place and returned to Tenby Towers, feeling rather knackered.

Housemate Helen (the smaller) then finds me asleep on the sofa at about 8.30pm. This is not good.

Metropolitan

‘Twas Housemate Andrew’s birthday, and he was out celebrating at the Metropolitan, in West Didsbury. So I dragged myself off the sofa, washed the blood out of my hair, and moseyed on down.

Stood around a while in a very silly place to stand - a narrow space between the end of the bar the restaurant, and the exit to the pub’s outsidey bit. I did try to get people to move a bit further into the pub, where there was acres of room, but it wasn’t happening. Just had to put up with being jostled.

Housemate Helen (the taller) turned up eventually, which meant that all the Tenbyites were there except Lynda, who was in Liverpool.

The others were basically ex-Housemate Patricia (Andrew’s girlfriend), her housemates, plus associated boyfriends.

Normal closing time approached, and I sounded people out about moving on. Nothing. On a Friday night. Okay, I accept that some people aren’t particularly hardcore, but that was rubbish.

Both of the Housemates Helen were up for more drinking, as was Simon (bloke of Helen the smaller), though, so the four of us walked to the bus stop. I had two groups of friends out that night - Harry was out for his birthday, in Rock Kitchen, while Paul was up from London to celebrate his birthday in TigerLounge.

Harry was first choice, mainly as I was unaware of it being Paul’s birthday. Unfortunately, I couldn’t contact him to confirm that he was at Rock Kitchen, so we went to TigerLounge instead.

It later transpired that Harry had left his phone in his coat when he checked it into the cloakroom. Bugger.

TigerLounge

Got in, after a bit of queueing, and found Mark, Paul, Adam, Luc and Dan boozing away, plus one or two others I don’t know. Think one of them may have been Paul’s brother.

(All photo’s courtesy of Mark’s website)

Mark and a very scary birthday boy

We’re all highly attractive

Helen and me - what am I looking for?

There’s only two Housemates Helen!

For those who don’t know it, TigerLounge is, well, a bit kitsch. But not in an up-its-own-arse kind of way, thankfully. The atmosphere’s pretty open and friendly, and they give you free sweets!

There’s a decent review here, FWIW.

It’s the sort of place where you’re as likely to hear Dolly Parton as you are The Strokes, with a fair bit of 60s lounge music and the odd TV theme thrown in - the A Team and Monkey Magic never fail to fill the dancefloor!

We drank. We danced. We had a good time.

But here’s the interesting bit. I’m standing at the bar, just behind Helen (the taller) and Adam, waiting to help them carry, when a girl comes up to me.

“Excuse me” she said, “are you Sri Lankan?”

Now, I’m half Sri Lankan (well, technically 3/4, but never mind that), and it shows. I look very Sri Lankan indeed, and often get spotted by Sri Lankans in petrol stations, restaurants, etc.

However, unless I’m wearing my cricket top (a bit of a giveaway), it’s not something that a Caucasian would spot.

In fact, it had happened only once before - at Jo’s party, by a bloke who’d just been on holiday there.

So, I was somewhat surprised to be asked by a cute English girl in a nightclub. It turns out that Rachel (for that be her name) had lived in Colpetty (an area of central Colombo) with her husband, who was a Sri Lankan Muslim. At least, that’s what I think she said - it was very loud in there, and my hearing’s not all that good. I questioned the lack of wedding ring, and I think she said something about divorce.

We chatted (well, shouted into each others’ ears) for a while, during which time I found out that Rachel had done Textiles at UMIST from 1995 to 1999. Those are the same years that I was there, so I reckon we must have a mutual acquaintance or two somewhere. Unfortunately, the UMIST textiles types I know would all have been either the year before or after her.

We went our separate ways. The DJ was clearly in a flippant mood, and was playing things like “I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts”…so I bided my time, waiting for a suitably danceable tune.

Bear in mind here that I’ve never actually gone on the pull in a nightclub.

Unfortunately, Rachel’s group kept moving around - every time I looked up, she was gone.

Finally, her group was right next to mine, and the DJ played a suitably dancey tune…and Housemate Helen (the taller) grabbed me for a close dance. I looked around afterwards, and Rachel was gone. I feared that Helen had ruined my chances.

So, I just continued along in my merry way.

RESULT!

Well, sort of.

A while later, I spot Rachel again - she’d not left! Sure enough, she came over and said that her bunch was leaving…and did I want to swap numbers?

Several txt msgs later (which have been delightfully free of txtspk), and we swapped email addresses and landlines. Cue several emails, and a short conversation.

That was the Friday before last. We both wanted to meet up, but I had a really busy week and was then away for the weekend. She also lives in Prestwich, on the other side of Manchester - remember that I’ve had an awful lot of trouble this year dating girls who lived within a 20 minute walk of me

Anyway, in just over two hours’ time, I’m going to be meeting Rachel in Sinclair’s Oyster Bar. Hopefully.

I know very little about her, but I’ve got a good feeling about things. She could be an axe murderer, for all I know…and it’s nearly Hallowe’en!

Wish me luck!