A week of living dangerously

Aka Little Miss Random's week of following her gut.

Aside from the previously mentioned job interview which resulted in my doing something for the first time in my entire working life (hint: it's not (too) serious, and it involves time off work), there was also the significantly large expenditure in the way of a new customised wardrobe (this in spite of not knowing the size of my bonus), and then there was last night, the first night I went clubbing by myself in Brixton outside of the O2 Academy, and also the first time I've worn eyeliner out which I did myself. Big steps, yes?

I had fun, in spite of Felix B. (of Basement Jaxx)'s shorter than expected set. I think he played for 1.5 hours although the other guy on the decks before him was coming in and out and spinning some tracks as well. I had a prime location right in front of the DJ booth, which is where you'll usually find me if I'm by myself, and had fun dancing till the end of Felix's set. Of course, Felix came out to chat with people and I was tempted to go over and asked if he remembered me, but then this guy came up to me and started talking to me, before asking me if I wanted him to p*** off. I do get this look on my face when people come up to me in clubs which says exactly that, but, for some reason, I thought I shouldn't be so harsh on people, having been unexpectedly set up by a friend an hour before, and said, no, we can talk.

So we chatted, and I thought I would probably be leaving some time soon anyway, but then we soon established our respective ages (he thought I was in my early twenties and when I said I was older, he said "you can't possibly be 25"), and I thought, fine, he's older than I thought (still younger than I am, but a year older than CG and JC... seems like the older I get, the gap between the ages of the men hitting on me and I is narrowing, even if they are looking for a 24 year old!) and the music's good, so I'll stay for a bit longer.

As young English lads are wont to do, so I have learnt, he asked if he could kiss me. The politeness around this, if it can be called that, is a little refreshing, as opposed to people who just kind of lean in and lunge (which has happened). I said no, and explained that while I thought he was cute (and he is), I wasn't drunk enough, before explaining further that what I meant was that I was very shy, which he said sounded much better than the first explanation. I really do need to think about how I phrase these things!

Let's just say that neither one of us was very shy six alcohol units each later.

I think I'll be concluding this week of living dangerously by seriously detoxing before returning to my carefully risk-managed life.