Oh my God! They Kilkenny!! (2)

“AAAHHH!!! YOU’RE GORGEOUS!!!” Lindsay’s friend Mary came rushing out, in a purple creation that made the most of her, eh, assets. Lindsay introduced us, and she just said “OH? So this is Joe!” I smiled nervously. “I must have a big chat with you later on!”. I loosened my collar when she turned away. Everyone was inside; apparently in some cultures it’s traditional for there to be drinking done in full costume prior to the actual do. So much drinking in fact that one poor girl was taken by ambulance to the hospital (in full dress) to have her stomach pumped, a verb that may puzzle some pious readers. Basically, it’s not uncommon in a country that drinks as much as Ireland to know someone or of someone who once drunk so much that to keep all the alcohol in their system would be life-threatening. So the unfortunate would-be Oliver Reed must suffer the indignity of being hauled off to hospital to have the demon drink literally pumped out. This was not on my to-do list, and I had said to Lindsay many times that I’m an alcoholic waiting to happen so no tequila, aftershock or sambuca. Which is funny, because who should I be introduced to next only Lindsay’s other friend Grace and her date. Dave from Cork city.

For some unknown reason, Dave and me hit it off. Maybe it was the combination of his Dave-ness and his Cork-ness that put me at ease but whatever it was, within minutes we were walking ahead of the wimmin, comparing the prices we were charged by different branches of the same suit hire company. Then we just nattered n for the rest of the night about all sorts of shit as they two dates looked at us in…. well, I’m sure they were glad we got on. I usually never get on with guys. Another strange Joe trait.

The meal at a debs is always great fun. I remember pretending to snort pepper off a table once (I have this obsession with cocaine humour only I find funny) and throwing bread at classmates. It’s like the last chance you have to be a kid, and I was having my third chance. Maybe going to three debs was my way of trying to hold on to the bit between childhood and adulthood I was comfortable with. Whatever it was, it wasn’t on my mind then. Lindsay and me were joking and having a lot of fun. There were around fourteen at the table, seven couples, and only three couples were actually talking. Sometimes people go with their boyfriend or girlfriend. Others go with a friend of the family or just someone else at a loose end. I went with a friend. Lindsay is a friend. I felt good.

And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like: “wanna go outside?” It still seems like a good idea and maybe it was. But I always get carried away in moments these days, they’re all I have. I think the real me is in a parallel universe with a girlfriend, and I’m here wondering why she isn’t here. I love moments, I never think of the consequences. So we walked outside. At this stage, I’d taken off my jacket, waistcoat and bow-tie and felt a lot more comfortable. Maybe if I’d kept them on, I wouldn’t have said to her on the bench, well, nothing. Only I kissed her. And it was good, and it was just like I remembered it four years ago. Lindsay, The Only Girl I Ever Kissed.

Yes, it’s true. You see, due to my crippling shyness (stop laughing, people who’ve met me!) I’ve never actually gone to a girl and kissed her first. In every snog I’ve ever had bar Lindsay, I’ve waited til the girl’s either jumped at me or at least done 60-70% of the Awkward Leaning Towards Each Other. But Lindsay, way back in 1998, was and still is the only girl I went to kiss. And amazingly I wasn’t drunk. Which must mean something. We kissed good, very slow and…. well, rather….eh….ahem…nice. We went inside and danced, kissed and generally acted the couple, which is exactly what the saddest, emptiest part of me wanted to do. And that part was in charge of the night’s proceedings, until we went back to her house.

We arrived at her’s at around 4am, with the two other couples. I felt sober, but in true unbelievably drunken style, I fell asleep and now I forget anything that was said. However, I do remember waking up and Lindsay saying she was going out to the kitchen. I followed her, I mustn’t have been that drunk since I held her in the middle of the kitchen and kissed her rather…passionately. I know there’s a lot of dots in this entry, it’s to represent my now reddened face. Suffice is to say stuff involving a worktop did then occur, your honour, and I did something I hadn’t done before. No, not that (I did that before in a drunken stupor). The other thing, the thing that’s harder to do than that. No. Not that. No, no, no, yes, yes, yes, YES! That’s it! Oh yes!! Yes! Fuck yes!

That.