Not uncommon

Sometimes I don’t know him at all. But as I found a seat on the afternoon tube I realised I was sat right next to him, well, a similar sort. He was sat looking straight ahead at his reflection in the opposite tube window and his eyebrow raised slightly as he turned his head slightly to admire his hair. Same colouring, same glowing skin, the sort that looks like he’s been raised well, not low on any vitamin or supplement. His navy suit fitted more snugly at his biceps and thighs than the rest of his body, the glamour muscles were in full form. He held two phones in his hand, it rang at one point and asked them to call him back as he was busy, he sat with an air of confidence which boarder-line pompousness. Although it was only a brief sitting arrangement and I hardly threw a glance his way, I had concluded that he was a right dickhead and he would have absolutely zero interest in someone like me. 

And it made me think of if I saw Dan sat there, but he was another tube stranger. What would I really think when I saw him? I would probably admire how well put together he was but would assume that he was a ponce (he is,) and wouldn’t think anymore about it. 

And now as I sit and wait in a documents office for some paperwork to be signed, I think about how hooked I have become on someone who is so, so low down on my usual interest list. Thinking about it I really do believe it’s the thrill of someone being such a great opposite to who I am, who entertains me sometimes and allows me to entertain him, such an unlikely combination. It shouldn’t be and yet when it happens, there’s an undeniable chemistry. The build up is fun, plied with alcohol what’s not to like? 

It may well have been the last time. Future vague dates were mentioned but I’m not sure they’ll come to anything. And like I always say; they shouldn’t. It would be a good thing if they don’t. 

Got to remind myself of who he really is, who we really are together outside of the duvet covers and the alcohol infused highs.