I think if #198 and I lived in the same place she would be my partner in crime. She makes music and she writes and she gets off with people a lot: I think I could work with this.
But the first time I got off with her I was kind of useless. It was two nights after #150‘s flying visit to London and on top of that I was still dealing with the general whirlwind euphoria of my weekend at Transfabulous. Also I hadn’t slept properly for several nights and I’d been drinking too much. So my mind and body were both kind of wrecked.
I was crashing at #198’s place and the thing was that we were clearly destined to get off together. I don’t know, it’s like I have no trouble walking up to someone and going “Hey, wanna make out?”, which may or may not yield positive results, but when I’m faced with a foregone conclusion I suddenly become utterly inept. We were in bed and #198 was dropping hints and I was failing to respond and finally she gave up and wrestled me. This is a thing she does. She always loses at wrestling but the point is that then people get off with her. So that was what happened.
The next time I saw #198 I fared somewhat better. It was more than a year later, and I had just gotten back together with #116 (which, incidentally, happened subsequent to writing the blog post about her. So there is more story that I haven’t told). I was kind of exhilarated about that but I was not the dazed wretch I’d been on my previous trip to London. This time there was no wrestling; #198 asked if she should kiss me and I agreed that she probably should. “Have you ever made out with anyone with better breasts than your own?” I asked. “Because I would be amazed.” Listen to me. I am the goddamn anti-suave. #198 considered this for a few moments and then admitted that she hadn’t.