Jogging Along

by James Birk

Chapter 12

  I met Cheryl in The Social, a student pub in Cathays, near her house. I had to admit she was looking pretty good, although the dress she had chosen didn’t leave a lot to the imagination and I was aware of the attention she was getting from some of the other drinkers in the bar. She ordered a glass of white wine and I ordered a beer, and even though I was relatively clueless about how to act on dates, I knew enough to assume that it was my responsibility to pay for the drinks, although she didn’t leave me much option as she was already sitting at a table sipping her drink when the barman produced my pint.

  The plan had been to meet for one drink and then head into town to go to the cinema (apparently my suggestions hadn’t been as bad as all that, just the manner in which I expressed myself).

  Although we’d been colleagues for a while, our paths hadn’t really crossed that often in work, so I didn’t really know that much about her. However that wasn’t to last long as we spent the next half an hour talking more or less exclusively about her.

  Originally hailing from just outside Newport, it turned out she was twenty-four years old and had been working at FFS for about a year longer than me, having previously spent time working in a call centre for a utilities company on the outskirts of the city. She hadn’t really liked working for the call centre, although apparently there had been some ‘fit blokes’ there, indeed they were ‘much fitter than the boys at FFS’. Before that she had been studying Fashion Promotion at the university of Glamorgan, but she had only lasted her first year there, because she, said, she spent too much time in the pub. She had been single now for a few months but prior to that she had had a long term boyfriend for about two years, who she now realised was a ‘bit of bastard’ and who had ‘treated her like shit’.

  She barely stopped talking to breath, but being somewhat socially inept, it was refreshing to not have to put too much effort into the conversation. She did occasionally ask me questions about myself, but after I provided her with a monosyllabic answer she would go off in another tangent about her life. She was elaborating on how it was her dream to appear on the X-Factor (which wasn’t that much of a dream I thought. It was definitely putting a ceiling on her ambitions. Dreaming of stardom I could understand, dreaming of winning the X-Factor would have been something, just appearing on it seemed to be something that more or less anyone could achieve) when I drained the last of my pint and checked my watch.

  ‘We’d better be heading off if we’re going to catch the film,’ I pointed out.

  There was still some wine in her glass but she knocked it back in one impressive gulp and we headed off.

  The cinema was fairly busy because there was a new blockbuster out that I quite fancied seeing. We queued up for about ten minutes, with Cheryl telling me stories about what a ‘mad laugh’ some of her friends were (it was slightly disconcerting as her date to listen to how many of these friends seemed to be men). We got to the counter and I paid for two tickets to a romantic comedy that I had absolutely no interest in seeing but that Cheryl was fairly keen on. Having about thirty minutes to kill we went to the bar, where I paid for another glass of wine for Cheryl and a half of lager for myself, noting with pleasure that dating etiquette meant that I could order a half of lager without any of my mates making fun of me.

  A pint and half of lager inside me, meant that very soon I needed to go the toilet, which wasn’t ideal that early on in a date, but there was no way I could survive a two hour film without visiting the men’s room, so I made my excuses and left.

  When I returned Cheryl was deep in conversation with a much better looking and younger bloke than me, so I wandered over uncomfortably.

  ‘Hey Chris,’ said Cheryl, ‘this is my mate Simon from back home.’

  ‘Alright Simon,’ I nodded.

  ‘Alright mate,’ replied Simon, in a friendly tone of voice, but one that also conveyed that he was very much the alpha male in the conversation.

  It turned out that Simon and his mates were there to see the very blockbuster that I had wanted to see, which was due to start shortly after our film. For the next five minutes I didn’t really get a look-in in the conversation, before finally our film was announced and after kissing Simon on the cheek, Cheryl grabbed my arm and led me towards our screen.

  The film didn’t seem like it was my cup of tea, but I was prepared to give it a go. Going to the cinema was one of my favourite pass times, to the extent that when I couldn’t find anyone to go with me, I would often go on my own. Dave and Rob would both make fun of me for this but, as I pointed out to them, it wasn’t really like anyone could have a conversation in the cinema, so once the lights went out, it really didn’t matter if I was on my own or not. Unfortunately no-one had told Cheryl the rule about not talking in the cinema, and she spent the next two hours chatting non-stop to me about people I’d never met that the actors in the film reminded her of, to the extent that I genuinely had no idea what the film was actually about.

  By the end of the film Cheryl was starting to grate on my nerves a little. She seemed like a really nice girl, but it was clear to me that we had nothing in common. However, she still seemed quite keen, and she was the first girl I’d been on a date with for a very long time, so I didn’t really want to end the night prematurely.

  We went for another drink in town, and this time I ordered another pint, because it was a proper pub and I didn’t want to run the risk of anyone seeing me drinking a half, although in truth that’s all I felt like. Cheryl ordered a glass of wine, downed it in one and then ordered another straight after.

  Before long we were drinking shots of tequila, and Cheryl told me about a place she liked to go to that sold half price cocktails until ten thirty. It was quarter past ten at this point and I still wasn’t that drunk, but I had ruled out any possibility of going for a run the following morning, so off we went to the cocktail place, where I ordered a long Island Ice Tea, and Cheryl rather provocatively ordered a ‘Sex on the Beach’. As the alcohol flowed I started to find her a lot less irritating and began to focus more on her figure hugging dress and very visible cleavage. As was always the case, my social skills began to improve, and soon it was me dominating the conversation, making lots of jokes and sarcastic remarks about FFS colleagues that we both agreed we didn’t like very much.

  It was a work night, and I knew I was going to regret having drunk so much the following day, but I was actually starting to have a good time, and it had been a while since I’d really enjoyed a night out. Cheryl suggested that we head to a club, and although there was a voice telling me that it wasn’t really a good idea, that I’d regret it in the morning, there was another telling me to throw caution to the wind, so off we went, to an overpriced nightclub that was pretty much empty. Neither of us needed any more alcohol, but force of habit made me go to the bar and order two more drinks.

  Cheryl gulped hers down and dragged me, spilling my pint everywhere, onto the dance floor. In the cold light of day, no-one was more aware than me of my ineptitude as a dancer, but inebriated as I was, I started to believe I was Fred Astaire. I hurled Cheryl around the dance floor energetically, still clinging on to a glass of beer that frankly was going everywhere. Had there been more customers, I’m sure the bouncers would have thrown us out, but that night I think they were grateful for the trade.

  The rest of the evening was a blur. More drinks were consumed, more dances were danced, and after a while Cheryl and I were all over each other feverishly snogging in an alcohol induced passion. Eventually the lights came on and the music stopped.

  Cheryl and I staggered outside and into a taxi, which drove us the five minute walk from the club to her house.

  I walked Cheryl to her door and she leapt on me with renewed passion. She pulled back and looked at me coquettishly.

  ‘You coming in?’ she asked.

  We both knew that I was.