I am a contrarian, I make no excuse. I don’t like to do or say what is expected of me. I like to challenge accepted opinions, and I love playing Devil’s Advocaat (the eggier side of any argument), because I believe in general that people should think more and consider other viewpoints…
But for the sake of this post, let’s say that if a girl expects me to buy her a drink then it’s the last thing I would want to do.
This is actually the story within a story, but I’m putting it at the start so I can gradually build up to the most exciting thing about last night, which was that the FBI paid for my drinks!
Oh bugger, I’ve given the game away… I promise I’m not so clumsy when writing scripts.
Okay, so following a civilised ex-pat Halloween warm-up, many of the attendees went on to Union Bar, which is quite a smart place rammed full of hipsters.
I was with a group of some locals and US consulate staff, and (as I found out in the taxi across town) a guy from the FBI… Actually it wasn’t really a taxi, just some dude who pulled up outside the first place we’d been in, but that’s fairly normal over here and not the scary prospect that it would be in London… And come on, I was with the FBI!
Now I always thought that the FBI were an internal agency and that the CIA dealt with foreign intelligence, but he explained that he does background investigations on Russian persons of interest in the US. He had one of those shiny badges that you see in the movies, so I certainly wasn’t going to challenge him.
He got the first round in at Union Bar and when I tried to get the second he insisted on buying again. Very generous, that FBI.
Unfortunately on the way back from the little boys room I was kinda hit-on by a girl who I’d said hello to earlier at the ex-pat event. Being hit-on wasn’t unfortunate obviously (that’s always very flattering, although I’m not currently looking for that kind of company), but it did distract me from having my drinks bought by the FBI.
By the way, I did check whether I could blog about this… The Russian authorities know he’s here and what he’s doing. He definitely isn’t a spy. And obviously the FBI will be reading this because I’ve typed FBI eight times already, so it’s okay if they know he bought the drinks. Actually, if I type KGB I could double my readership! Do the KGB still operate? Hang on, there’s a knock at the door, so I guess yes…
…err no, well maybe? It was the receptionist. I have to move rooms today.
The girl didn’t immediately hit on me either. She waved from the bar so I went across to chat and (because she was nearing the end of her wine) offered to buy her a drink. She refused… which of course made the contrarian in me want to more.
This is why I must remain nameless. I’ve just given away the secret to getting a free drink out of me whilst making me feel like I’ve come out of the situation on top…
It transpired that she wanted to be ‘persuaded’ (and if that’s what she wanted then it certainly wasn’t gonna happen), but I was just trying to be friendly. Anyway she accepted my offer… “I really don’t mind either way, yes or no?”… but bemoaned my lack of effort and said it was a good job I was hot (I was wearing a jumper in a crowded bar, of course I was hot), which was when I finally clicked.
So what does the contrarian who has just bought a girl a drink then realised she is hitting on him do?… Immediately (but politely) make his excuses (of course) and go back to the FBI… With a full pint and no drinks for anyone else. I felt terribly rude, but they were all leaving anyway, so next time I’m out with the FBI it’s definitely my round. I’m guessing it doesn’t actually matter which agent I’m with as they will all know it’s my round. They’re in the FBI!