Sunday, October 04, 2009
Resisting Elvis
This weekend was surprising. I was dreading going to Skegness. A depressing holiday camp near the sea but not on it. There is nothing to do there apart from eat rubbish food and drink. I wasn't looking forward to it. I think the main problem is that event is organised by people who don't ride motorbikes so they don't get what is fun about bikes.
Anyway, we arrived, got very drunk danced like loons, talked to girls and some of the group did some light vomiting. What was actually quite good fun. I had my own holiday apartment so I could retreat from the party at will. Which was nice because the other apartment was like a zoo.
The second day involved some light duties (riding about and then judging something) before it was time to become Elvis. I spent ages shaving to get Elvis sideburns and then finally it was time to get into costume. The jumpsuit was very cool, as it not warm in the slightest. It always was rather revealing, but was silly and that's what counts.
We scampered out into the night, with one person dropping out before we even got into a club because he had drunk so much while getting ready. The entire club was full of people in costumes, and I had a good time dancing away.
Then Chuck appeared, I of course was civil yet distant and we spoke briefly about things of no concequence before our groups moved to different night clubs. I briefly saw her again later in the night but we didn't talk. I didn't think much of it apart from being pleased that I'd managed to be civil.
Finally I went home and crashed asleep and when I woke up I had two 'booty text' from Chuck. I had a bet with someone at work that she would try something like this, I even got the hour right. Girls are so rubbish sometimes.
I didn't reply to the text messages, I don't to any of the ones she sends me, but I expect I'll get an email about it today. With emails I reply to anything work related but everything else is ignored. In a way I feel sorry for her, it must be hard to resist Elvis.
On the plus side she did mention she is leaving in November so that's great news. And I have a first date tomorrow in London. I'm not sure quite what I'm going to do with transport. If I ride down it will be far quicker and easier but I can't drink, but riding means I don't have to worry about the last train or any of that nonsense.
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1 comment:
So I'll keep an eye out for a fit bloke dressed as Fat Elvis, riding a Daytona when I'm in town tomorrow, then?
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