It's funny how life works. Many people say that you only get out of life what you put in, and while I do agree with that, I also believe that every now and then, the cards fall in your favour, and you get something out of the blue.
But more on that later. Now: Cherry Tomatoes.
I visit my elderly friends once a week, and they very kindly give me some locally grown vegetables. Amongst the veg I got this week was a punnet of cherry tomatoes. The punnet was not sealed, and was sat at the top of the bag of vegetables. As I was going to drive home (well it would be stupid to drive to my friends and then walk home), I foresaw a potential cherry related disaster.
However, being a rather clever (and handsome) chap I devised a cunning plan: I would put the punnet on my passenger seat. Genius!
No, not really.
You see, I couldn't help but taste one of those cherry tomatoes. But not only one - all of them. By the time I was half way home, I had eaten the entire punnet, and for that first half of the journey I was pretty much driving one handed with a mouthful of cherry tomatoes.
I was so tomato focused that I even thought that one had escaped from the punnet, leapt across the gap between the seats, and had been crushed by my left buttock. Once I'd eaten all the tomatoes, I continued to drive one handed as I felt under my leg and buttock for the phantom squashed tomato. Of course, it wasn't there but in my tomato infused mental state I was imagining them.
So last night there was a boxing match on Sky Sports 1. I had made plans to meet with friends for one drink (remember that, ONE drink) in the pub and then all go back to my friends place to watch the fight.
However, I didn't plan on meeting Emma.
She was at the bar when we walked into the pub, tall, blonde and attractive (her, not me - I'm not blonde). We got our drinks, and moved down the other end of the bar.
So far, it was all going to plan.
Soon it was my turn to get a round in, so I went to the bar. As I was waiting at the middle of the bar, Emma appeared at the far end.
For a while, there was no staff behind the bar for some reason, so when the barman finally arrived, I remembered my manners and let the lady order first.
And that one act sparked an evening of conversation. Initially we chatted while our drinks were poured, but I jokingly told her that I would meet her back at the bar, and next time she could buy me a drink.
I kept an eye out for her returning to the bar, and when she did I cheekily went over and "demanded" my drink. To her credit, she took it in good humour and bought me a pint. And we stayed at the bar for the next two hours pretty much and had a really nice conversation.
The time when we should have left to go and watch the fight came and went, and to their undeniable loveliness, when I looked over to my friends to check if we were going, they said no.
All too soon the time came for Emma to go home. I didn't ask for her number, or ask if I could take her out. All I said was that I hoped I would see her again in the pub at some point. Some people might think that I should have taken her number, or given her mine. Some might even think that I should have tried to get her into bed. Well, that isn't how I work. For me, the company and good conversation of a beautiful woman was enough. I'd had more than the one pint I had planned, but it was an unexpected but really enjoyable evening.
If I see her again, then who knows?