Quaint ramblings and occasional reflections of a journeying Aussie musician...

12 April 2006

Lost In Translation

Took a girl on a date yesterday. Met her through new housemate J - gorgeous, a bit shy, very cute. Musos put a lot of stock into judging books by their covers, or rather, certain chapters of the book perhaps, and I'm starting to see that most of the time that it's generally spot on. And so I could tell by looking into her eyes that she was a lovely person, maybe even my kind of girl....
The Catch? Doesn't speak English. Been in the country a couple of weeks - barely a word.
A fool's errand, you might be asking? Probably....I thought it'd be a laugh, some fun, and since there's not much else going on in your humble correspondent's love life....this girl is clearly fresh off the boat, so I thought I'd show her some love.
Ducking in from the drizzle into Tinderbox on Upper Street, I coudn't believe it....I've been coming to this place on and off for a year and for the first time ever, a pair of the airline seats up the back were free.....surely a good omen.
Phrasebooks and a notepad were quickly fished out. No usual conversational paranoia here (What to say? Where to take it?.....Oh no, a silence!!), as her average sentence construction time was about five minutes. I calmly flicked through a magazine while she took longer than seemed necessary to look up words like 'but' and 'therefore'.
So it was tough at first, yes, but eventually we got into talking about where she lived and what work she was looking for, and there was definitely something in those dark eyes and smile....gorgeous body.....drizzle outside....it's all right, you're doing all right, just be cool and you're fine....
Excusing myself to get another drink, I carried the ponderous-looking hot chocolate back to the table to find a couple of rather direct questions on the notepad. It seemed that one minute we were talking about public transport and sharehousing and the next minute she's asking me whether I'm interested in her. You know what they say about doing one thing a day that scares you?....."You done it this time, champ," I said to myself...
So I thought what the hell and I told her I liked her, just to see what happened, and we started talking about relationships and past loves and such. It seemed that when I was at my best, she couldn't understand, but when I perhaps sounded not as eloquent as preferred, she seemed to understand entirely. I have to say though, on the subject matter she was quite a cool customer, perhaps more so than I.
Finally realising the ridiculousness of the situation, I went to wind it all up (the phrase 'just good friends' was used) and went to leave....walking her to her bus-stop though, in another random moment of spoken clarity she asked me when she could see me again, leaving me trudging off into the back streets of Islington not really knowing where I stood.

Ah me, is there any hope....


Sherd said...

Of course there's hope!
1) She wouldn't have asked you if you were interested in her if the subject hadn't come up in her mind.
2) Alone in a new country, new language, along comes a cute nice kind jazz-playing boy? Who buys hot chocolate? If there ain't at least a glimmer of interest on her part, she may be dead. In which case, you should probably avoid her.
3) If you end up just good friends, well then, you have a good friend you wouldn't mind shagging. Could be worse.

keep up the good work.

Anonymous said...

Life is too short, lad! Take it from a drummer with no time for sensitivity, you've got to seize the day, the night, and in your case, the girl, language barriers and fol de rol be damned!

- West Coastie