Ask him for his Name and Number!

I met a guy at wedding no3. But then again does it count if I never got the guy’s name or any form of contact details – this includes email so I can track him down on Facebook or his Twitter ID so I can ‘follow’ him?

Allow me to explain. Nat and Matt hired a mobile ice cream parlour at their reception. FYI ice cream and sparkling wine makes for happy guests at a wedding. Serving the ice cream was this young guy with preppy hair, blue eyes all suited up in a tie, shirt and waistcoat.

(Clearly I have the makings of a stalker!) Andy obviously saw the attraction because when we were all sat inside away from the rain, he went to speak to Ice Cream Man. As he walked out, he whispered to me: “He is hot.” Now you know those moments where as soon as someone points the obvious out to you, everything becomes clear? That was one such moment.

Within 5 minutes (note time) Andy came back with a tray of ice cream. He told me Ice Cream Man will be studying Politics at Leicester this year, he’s just come back from travelling and he’s learning Mandarin. The downside? He’s straight and he’s got too many freckles.

In a rather unusual moment of bravery, I decided to go and talk to Ice Cream Man as well as getting more dessert for Andy. One small selfless deed for a friend followed by one giant leap in the whole getting to know someone game society calls Flirting for Debbie.

Almost immediately I got to chatting to Ice Cream Man while eating a mint chocolate chip cone and holding a tub of Honeycombe Swirl for Andy. FYI there is no attractive way of eating an ice cream cone. When Ice Cream Man went to kneel down to get something I quickly wiped my mouth only to find an unattractive green and brown smudge on the back of my hand.

But still we talked… and talked. I learnt that:

· Yes he will be attending Leicester University to study Politics in September (“Leicester? I worked in Loughborough! Great place.” Lie no1: Apart from the train station, I’ve never actually been to Leicester itself.)

· He really wants to spend a year in China to learn Mandarin because in the future it will become a dominant language (“I speak Cantonese which is slightly more difficult than Mandarin but I can understand the words just the same.”)

· He has just come back from travelling around South East Asia (which explains preppy hair) and smoked lots of cheap cigarettes. He went into full detail about the cultural differences in Thailand, Singapore and India. The bulk of our conversation was how much we loved travelling, the culture shock of coming home and the urge to go back out there. Cue lots of laughing and joking.

(I notice at this point Andy’s ice cream is melting.)
Then came the part of the conversation where I should have just asked him for his name and number. What did I have to lose? Exactly.


We got talking about Brighton Pride. Now before you wonder no he is not gay. He is from Brighton and every year his friends and him organise some gathering on the beach that goes on into the early morning. I told him that I aim to go to Pride after the wedding to meet up with my Gay (Andre).

Ice cream Man: Oh I finish my shift at 7 so I’m heading straight there.

Pause.

Good luck finding someone in Brighton tonight.

Pause.

Me: Where’s the best places to go?

Ice Cream Man: Start at Preston Park and work your way down.

Me: Pause.

Silence

Andy’s ice cream by this point has turned into a sickly, melted mess.

Instinct tells me that we were both thinking the same thing but expecting the other to take charge.

If that is true then clearly that backfired.

All in all, Ice Cream Man and Wedding Guest were just two strangers who engaged in the perfect random conversation.

We covered all grounds: job/ studies, where we live, travel stories, likes and dislikes. I even learnt that rather than develop an aversion to ice cream he actually eats more than he should.

Our conversation ended when Andy came out wondering what was taking me so long. 45 minutes I spent talking to Ice Cream Man.

Looking back maybe I did waste a golden opportunity.

But there is no doubt that I have something to be proud of. Speaking to random strangers has never been a problem for me. However in the rare moments where I actually talk to a random that I really like the look of, I do have a tendency (or so I’ve been told) of coming across too standoffish/ intelligent/ guarded that ultimately kills the moment.

This time I am proud to say, I made no references to Apartheid, the Middle East crisis or Obama. (OK I did mention Robben Island but only in answer to my best moments in Cape Town.)

I know for a fact I will never see Ice Cream Man again. Actually is a good thing when compared to the alternative of later discovering that interesting man turns out to be not so when removed from the uniform and dessert.

At least I made an effort with stranger. Keep this up then hopefully the next guy I speak to I may get a first name!