I realised today that I hadn't been out for a drink in Soho since Tim had his accident and that was at the beginning of July. I also really felt the need to get out, as I hadn't been out since I got back from Torquay almost 2 weeks ago. Therefore I headed into town for a couple of drinks. As usual, when drinking alone, I intended to start off in Rupert Street, the only bar I feel comfortable drinking alone in. I was disappointed to find, however, that it was closed (hopefully just for renovations). I had to start in the Duke of Wellington.
While I was there I noticed a cute blond guy in a suit, though he hardly acknowledged me. I finished my drink and headed off to Comptons. In there I saw a nice looking guy with a rugby-type build in a green t-shirt who I quite liked. He didn't acknowledge me at all. I then saw another nice guy this time with a muscular build and a tight-ish white t-shirt. He didn't acknowledge me either, but met up with the green t-shirt guy. I should remember this golden rule: when there are only 2 guys you fancy in the bar then they are inevitably going to end up together.
I came home after this second drink and now am cooking a pizza and feeling incredibly sorry for myself and rather depressed.
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