... Mid way through the debate, two asian girls come along and alas, there isn't enough space for them to sit NEXT to each other. And how unfortunate would that be? So the absolutely stunning girl who was a seat away from me, scooches up next to me...
Stay cool man, stay cool.
I stay far from cool. I go into some weird sort of meltdown where I'm practically evaporating. Let me emphasise the fact that this was in fact a stunner of a girl. A wowzer to the effect that you'd bring her home, show her to the parents and be greeted at the front door with the words:
"You did good son, you did good."
So yeah, *GULP* and I carry on listening to what the guys are saying, my attention quickly fading away from the boring guy talking about how the English Defence League is all about something or another. It was too late! I was already more interested in her. Peering over at what she was writing in her notes. Oh her handwriting. It was the stuff dreams are made of. And her iPhone, oh her poor iPhone, with the crack on the screen and the protective case she must have bought as a result of the damage inflicted on the phone! Oh LAMENT! That I was still working at o2 and could offer her a way to fix it! How she rested that iPhone on the pad that she was writing on.
It got to a point where people would clap for the speakers. Or make a point NOT to clap. And I didn't know whether or not to clap! Is she pro BNP? Because if so, then they don't really seem all that bad do they? All they want is for our skin to be nice and clean and white, right?! And Anglican! It sounds so close to angelic! Much like... The girl sitting next to me!
Fortunately it was quite apparent that she wasn't an advocate for the sleazy, heinous ways of the BNP. She didn't clap. And laughed whenever the guy cocked up.
As did I, hastily after seeing that she was...
But to let a little truth shine through in this post, there were parts when I was overly enthralled by what the speakers were saying and I'd applaud a little over zealously at times and think- oh NO! I must look like a nutter to her!
She did this thing where her arms would be crossed and she wouldn't want to clap too much for a person so she'd clap her arm. Which was cool. I tried it with my leg but felt like a jazz musician. Not cool.
And then came the intermission. Where we spoke.
And oh God, did we speak. But about the whole event. Not about what her favourite TV shows were, not about what hobbies she had. No. We spoke about:
The Islamification of Britain.
FAN-tastic.
And to make it worse, I had very little to say! I was frustrated by the people who were knocking Islam, and said that, but about the Islamification of Britain?! I didn't even know it was an issue until two days earlier when I got invited to the event!
So we're talking and she's writing an essay on this for her Uni assignment.
"So do you all go to SOAS as well?" She asks me and my friend and her group of mates next to her.
"They all do, I don't, I'm not studying..."
If ever there WAS a nail in the figurative coffin of my notion of a relationship with this girl, that was it. BANG. In so deep that you wouldn't even be able to pry it out with the back end of a hammer. No, it's one of those annoying nails which doesn't even have a head.
BUT, she seems un-phased by this and I attempt a save by saying,
"Yeah this debate just seemed really interesting to me so I thought I'd drop by."
But, I'm in this weird sort of "Explain yourself" mindset so I can't STOP.
"Because, obviously, I'm a Muslim and the topic is regarding my faith so that's why. I mean I'm not really into the whole political scene but yeah..."
Never end a sentence with "But yeah"
Because in NO WAY do those two words ACTUALLY make ANY sense. Or lead to anything. Least of all a mobile phone number.
I guess it's good in a way then that my friend and all her SOAS buddies needed the loo which left me and the girl alone. Now when I crash and burnt to a cinder, they wouldn't be there to watch and recognize the flaming remains.
"So, you said as well, does that mean you're at SOAS too?" I asked her.
"Oh no, I'm at UCL!"
"Oh cool! Just down the road. What are you studying?"
"Anthropology" she replied.
I'm not sure if you're getting a weird vibe here, there wasn't. It was a nice conversation. We carried on talking about the debate. And she'd look at me and make EYE contact. Which was hard because I couldn't. Not in those beautiful, deep blue eyes. No, I had to dart my eyes around the room as though I was surveying it for some sort of terrorist attack. Although given my 4 day old stubble and shifty eyes, she'd probably think I was drunk. Or something.
And the TOPIC of conversation! I realised, some way through, that I actually didn't have anything of relevance to say. I mean I had opinions about the BNP and all the defence leagues and Islam but... this topic in particular...
And SHE could talk about it for ages and seemed REALLY passionate about it..! What was I to do!?
And then I remembered. The guys outside who tried recruiting me to protest against the whole thing had spewed a whole load of anti BNP tosh in my ears and it seemed to make sense...
So I regurgitated what they said to me...
"Well... you know, I think giving the BNP this platform to sit beside a multicultural committee and discuss things like this, it just paints them in a good light, and there really is no such thing as bad publicity."
She disagreed with me, in much the same way I disagreed with the people outside.
Oh NO! If only I was myself! :O :O
I argued their corner though and we both switched ideas with each other.
And we were hushed by the speaker on the stand as the debate got under way again.
An hour in and the BNP guy hadn't had to say a single word. And she whispered to me:
"You know, he hasn't said a word, he's just sitting there having an easy ride. I think you were right about the whole BNP thing..."
...
Thank you. Whoever you are, whatever you represent and whatever you wish to go on to do in your life, may you be successful, you anti BNP guy, you.
And at the end of the talk, she slowly packed her stuff and it SEEMED as though she waited for me to finish with my stuff and for the people in front to stop talking to me.
The guy in front said to her,
"So yeah, you wanted a video of this thing, I'll send it to you, no problem."
And I thought, oh you bugger, you ABsoLUte Bugger, diving in for MY prey. Hell no.
And just in earshot I heard her say to him,
"Actually, I didn't ask you for a video. But if you can get one, that would be cool, thanks!"
His face dropped a little. Wonderful.
And she turned to me and said, it was really nice to meet you.
And I replied, graciously. And there was this awkward moment. *Ask for her number* *Ask for her number* *Bloody HELL! At least get her NAME!!*
Ah but with a flash of a smile, she turned and left.
And the WORST thing. She went the same way as me and my mate, only she was like, thirty steps in front of us! So I watched her walking towards Holborn station just out of reach! ARGH!
That night I beat myself up over how I handled things.
Hang on. Hang on. HANG on... Let's look for her on Facebook.
Oh wait, that's right. You don't even have her name.
UCL? Yeah, go through every one of the UCL students.
UCL Anthropology?!
Hang on, you may have a point there sonny boy!
So I typed it in to Facebook and what do you know, they have a facebook group!
So now I'm a member of the UCL anthropology department...
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THAT explains it!!! PERVERT!!!
ReplyDeleteWished you stayed on at LSC yeah? Or were you one of those "Havering is the Oxford and Cambridge of colleges"?
I do wish I went to a better college. And went Uni. But meh, shit happens innit?
ReplyDeleteYou can still go uni. Just not UCL
ReplyDelete