I texted her. I was fully aware that she would think I was a stalker weirdo and immediately delete my number, but then I figured that in that case I would have no friends in Stockholm, which is exactly where I was before I sent the text, so I officially had nothing to lose. I texted that I’d unexpectedly found myself at a loose end (ha!) and if by any chance she was around and felt like a glass of wine, that would be great.
She replied a few minutes later, said she was just getting off work and a glass of wine sounded great.
It was so nice. In fact, a teeny part of me – crazy person alert again – felt almost choked up at how pleasant and familiar it was to be chatting over wine with a girlfriend. You know when you just click with somebody, and you tell your stories, and you giggle about the same stupid stuff, and it’s just so easy and you don’t cringe after every second thing you say in case they think you’re a moron?
Shining Armor girl is of course Swedish, so she has a little of the beauty and effortless style and perfection thing going on, she can’t help it, but she also has a relaxed genuineness and warmth about her that is just a leeetle bit different to the Two-Headed She Monster. At one point I apologized for gushing about the Viking so much, because it’s been tough to be in love with such an amazing man and not have girlfriends to gush with, and she laughed and said she totally understood. She is single and plans to remain so because, awesomely, it annoys her to wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to put on the light if she feels like reading.
I really hope that she never finds this blog because it sounds a little as though I have a crush on her 😉 Truly, I think I’m just high on the chink of hope that there are people in Stockholm I can be friends with, and giggle with, and gush with.
Well, I was.
The Viking called at one point, and I rejected the call because Shining Armor girl was in the middle of a funny story, and, damn, I talk to him all the time. It didn’t occur to me that he would then call the Two-Headed She Monster, but of course he did and found out that they weren’t with me.
On the upside, he was pissed and apparently reamed them out, but on the downside naturally he immediately wondered where I was and started worrying. And I’d switched my phone to silent so I didn’t see his numerous calls until I got home – after a glass or three of wine – so when I opened the door and he basically leaped on me and demanded to know where the hell I had been all night, I didn’t exactly see it from his point of view.