Match Maker, Match Maker......

dlowan wrote:

kickycan wrote:

Brambles sound good to ya, bunny?

You know I used to like walking around in the brambles until I found out that it is a well-known place for gay guys to go and have casual sex with strangers. Now it kind of scares me.

What, like, someone is gonna grab the wrong stranger?

It's just that sometimes I'll walk around there and there will be some guy just standing alone, like some gay vulture, just waiting for some new piece of meat to munch on. And then if I'm alone, they always try to make eye contact, and it's just kind of creepy, that's all. It's not all that uncommon, either. It kind of pisses me off, because I used to really like the damn bramble.

I've practiced matchmaking only once.

Oli, my wife's best friend was down, out, overweight and just dumped by a man who didn't deserve her. She had long teary phone conversations with my wife one day after the other.

One night, I noticed that one of the paper's editors, Obi, the subject of all the "fat" jokes, had sweaty hands.
"That's why I don't have a girlfriend", he said.
"That's no excuse. My friend Raul is uglier than you, has sweatier hands and has been married six times", I replied.

(While the editor is easygoing and a great tenor, Raul can't sing or dance and has little sense of humor but his first wife says he has other, ummm, interesting attributes, plus he is a reknown journalist.)

My wife and I talked about it, and arranged a double date.
We had to warn both members of the couple-to-be.
"She's is very pretty, she's cultured and fun. Loves computing. Overweight, yes, but not excessively. She's 30. Take a shower, eh?"
"He's a great tenor, waiting for a break in his singing carrier. Not very handsome, but very informed. Loves cinema and computing. Overweight, yes, but not excessively. He's 27. Put yourself pretty".

We went to a bar and ordered a bottle of tequila, and Squirt. It looked like doom when I saw him dressed "as his best" . She dressed as unsexy as can be. She told him she was 34, and that her brother was in the seminary school. Then he told her he was 25 and started talking about some obscure "street theater" group. So I drank more tequila, and tried to serve them. They seemed to want to stay sober.

A soccer game, the Mexican tournament semi-final appeared on the giant screen. Luckily, without sound. They both hate soccer. Well, that was something, at least.

My wife and I went dancing, with resignation. When we came back to our table, they both were making a chorus to a famous song of Los Enanitos Verdes, an Argentinian rock group: "I'm standing on the wall that divides everything what was before from what will be from now on". Good sign. I tried to serve more tequila. I was thirsty myself.

My wife and I went dancing again. From over the other dancers' heads I could glimpse our friends were kissing. Later -when a slower tune was played- they joined the dancers, but cared more about kissing and touching each other, with growing passion.

We had to drink some more tequila to celebrate it. I ordered another bottle.

After a while, the girls went to the toilet, and Obi said to me: "What an interesting woman! She's extraordinary". Similar things, but with more detail were told to my wife by Oli.

I can't remember much more of that December night. I remember my wife drove home. I remember I had the worst hangover and didn't report to work the next day. Neither did Obi.

Later, we found out that they went to Oli's house and broke the bed. They fell in love and lived together for a while (it felt good to see Obi arrive to work with his bag of home-made sandwiches). Their relationship lasted two and a half years (from dec. 1999 to mid 2002). They're still close friends.

Where in the world are the Brits? They're always running the briars and the brambles where a rabbit wouldn't go.