Mia Goes Out or The Story of Creepy James

As a precursor to this blog I will state that due to the fact that my family does read this, therefore there may be a few small details left out of this story.

Last night my flatmates and I (minus Latrice, who was busy far away enjoying Oktoberfest, and with the addition of Sean who wanted to go out in hopes of finding a lady-friend) went out to a club in central London called Tiger Tiger.

Of course, before heading out, and after making ourselves presentable, we enjoyed a few refreshments. Because you know refreshments are always more affordable at home.After much enjoyment at home it was time to head out.

We lost one flatmate along the way as she neglected to bring a proper form of identification and thus was not allowed into the club, so we headed in without her, and she headed home in hopes of wine.

Not long into dancing (and after one refreshment inside) I was spotted by a fairly handsome man in a grey sweater and we began dancing together. During this dancing I discovered his name was James, and I discovered he was wearing a very legitimate sweater, which I must say I found quite odd. The dancing was fun, I was enjoying myself, until James asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend, a question I'm sure I must have made him repeat at least 5 times because it was impossible to hear anything over that music (seriously, those bartenders must have mad listening skills). And it was at this question that I choose to take my leave from James, because he was nice to dance with, but I did not want to be his girlfriend, no sir.

Sadly this was not the end of James. A few minutes later, after my friend and I had left the dance floor for a bit and returned, the ever lovely James could be seen watching me though the crowd. Dear, sweet Morgan attempted to save me as James slowly but surely found the most direct route to me by informing Sean it was his job to be a man and protect me by dancing with me. Sadly, Sean is not the best dancer and doesn't understand that when trying to show other men that a girl is yours (as that is what is needed for protection) that you must actually touch said girl. Needless to say, James made his way to me. He said a fair amount to me that I couldn't understand over the music, all I made out, I think, was that he was sorry if he offended me, I said it was fine and signaled that I just was done and wanted to be with my friends. He did back off a bit, but Creepy James spent at least another five minutes just standing back and watching me. Thus the name Creepy James.

Eventually though, he simply disappeared, like a creepy ghost, never to be seen again.

That, my friends, is the story of Creepy James.

The remainder of the night included Morgan and Sean being 5 year-olds in love, holding hands and jumping up and down while singing along to Lady Gaga. Morgan purchasing a £5 shot from a shirtless man in hopes of licking it off his chest. Sean failing at dancing with girls because all he does is stand next to them. Morgan and the panini press. And waving at a very enthusiastic girl between our two bus tops.

And of course the night ended with a a slumber party of chatter in my bed with Morgan.