Who ordered Timmy Mallet for my birthday?

Well my birthday has gone but it was lovely nonetheless. Remember readers, I met my pal who I never seem to leave sober? Well why ruin a track record, again it was very much so.

I have always been rubbish at early evening drinking, I forget to eat. I think these Jersey folk have emergency stores like a hamster as they don't seem to struggle. They always seem sober, or it may be the case I am too drunk to notice their inebriation! People refer to Jersey as 90,000 alcoholics clinging to a rock, I don't agree. I think its 90,000 people with early evening drinking survival skills.

You start on a small demure glass of wine, so not to over do it; then some bright spark gets the idea to pull out the Jack Daniels. OK that  was my idea, but it was my birthday, I am allowed.

The best bit of the evening was two other people joined us, like a surprise. It was lovely that they had made the effort to celebrate my birthday. It felt more like old friends than new acquaintances. Maybe I am integrating myself into island living after all. I need to remind myself of that more often , when I feel lost and homesick. This is my home!

Lots of laughing, story telling and putting the world to rights was fun and then it happened. He was stood at the bar at last orders. Remember the 10 to 2 principle? That frantic moment of people thinking I haven't pulled yet. Girls batting their eyelids at staggering boys, boys circling you on the dance floor, ice skating round you, trying their best to score.  

Well here was my 10 to 2 propping up the bar. Was he the man of my dreams, only if I enjoyed that musical work of genius of Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini? Link provided for those under 30 reading this blog. Don't knock it, it reached number 1 in 1990.

Why start talking to me I thought? Well I was stupid enough to make eye contact. I can't help it I smile at everyone like a grinning eejit. So he ice skated up. " I know you" he remarked. He explained further that he thought I worked in the staff canteen and  I was lovely, did I think he was lovely too?   

Oi Missus....

Glancing  at his checkerboard shorts, Hawaiian shirt, baseball cap with over sized sunnys perched on the top...

"Err if you are chatting me up, it ain't working".
I swear the barman wasn't serving me quick enough because he was watching and enjoying the show. As his first haphazard guess of where I worked was wrong he guessed another job.
"You are a nurse, you took care of me. I saw you gazing above me and though she is lovely".
 "Errrrr well sir, if you think you saw me above you, treating you, you were very much knackered".

 I wanted to say he would of seen me jumping on his chest but he may of considered that foreplay.

Deep breath folks, he wasn't my 10 to 2, I trundled back to my seat, only after buying him a drink for effort. With lines like that, I felt it only right to reward them. On leaving with my pals, he was heard to be yelling "Oi come here" (I think the extra alcohol assisted his dulcet Oi-ing), I thought time to go home before he rummages in his pantaloons for his mallet.. 

Getting outside, my second wind returned. Fortunately had it not been my mates quick thinking of throwing me into a passing taxi (think Face bundling Murdoch into the A team van, much to his repeated objections), I probably would of been a lot worse than I was the following day.

I am like the Queen I had 2 birthdays, today being my second. Lunch with the girls in a fab place on the beach.

View from where we ate

The Beach House, St Brelade

Food was lovely, cocktails were great and my pressies were adorable. One of which was a handmade martini glass painted with cherries, very me.
Being a northerner in a foreign country seems to of on occasion defined a stereotype. Lunch was great although I was irked when I ordered mozzarella and sun dried tomato foccacia. As the waitress leaned into me in a "aww aren't you special kind of tone"; she felt the need to explain to me that foccacia was indeed a sandwich. "   Yes I know" I commented assertively. Nooo she couldn't leave it there as she continued to explain to me a sandwich was bread. Really never, how remarkable, and I thought foccacia was that renowned Italian opera singer.

This is the second time this has happened to me here, when, whilst on a date and after ordering gorgonzola souffle followed by halloumi, he felt the need to inform me I had ordered cheese followed by cheese and was I aware of that fact. He didn't see me moan, when he had ordered fish followed by fish. I LIKE CHEESE, WHAT OF IT!!! I was compelled to tell him that even northerners understood the world of gastronomy, we don't all eat chips with summat that's moist!

Well my celebrations are drawing to a close. In finality I raise my cherry painted martini glass filled with Orangina (My liver requires some respite) and thank all that wished me a wonderful birthday. Your wishes came true, it was indeed wonderful.