I often get asked whether my stories are out of real life and “true”. In sight of this, I’ve added this disclaimer to my “about” page:
Yes, this blog is based on my real life, on real dates and real stories. However as my main purpose is to entertain and muse about dating in general all the examples and stories (although drawn from reality) might be dramatised.
Sometimes I think this is still worth elaborating on. Not to get overly philosophical, but I do not believe in “truth” per se. Whatever event happens out there in reality (and for this blog we’ll just assume that reality exists) becomes our personal story through our own perspective, our biases, our native perception, our history, and as we retell our experience, our story is edited, some details omitted, some highlighted. The necessary blanks in any story are filled by the listener’s imagination. Therefore I find it rather amazing that our personal experience and story overlaps at all with others’ stories.
To illustrate my theoretical musings, I’ve decided to write two short stories about last night. Both are true, in that they depict what happened and I haven’t added anything.
A Side: “A Perfect Night”
Last night, I was invited to my friend’s V.’s house for home-cooked dinner. Initially, he had invited several people, but only me and my good friend B. turned up at 7.30 on the dot. We girls both brought wine, and opened the first bottle immediately. The conversation was lively and we finished our drinks quickly while waiting for another friend to start with dinner. Maybe an unwise choice, as said friend never materialised and by 10 o’clock we were ravenously hungry and quite tipsy. When V. came back from the kitchen with his specialty dish it seemed the most delicious thing either of us had eaten in weeks and was devoured within minutes.
After dinner the three of us retreated back to the sofa with our wine and a movie, which was an old favourite of both B. and mine. We are also both European and share a certain touchy-feeliness. In the course of the following hours, we became more and more entangled on the sofa with V. happily sitting in the middle, and legs were draped over cushions, heads buried in laps, hands lazily stroking backs, arms and necks. And that’s all I remember of the next two hours. In this situation, we all completely ignored both the movie and time and only realised when the last tube had long gone.
We didn’t have a choice but staying over and made our way to V.s bedroom, where we woke up this morning with crumpled sheets and big grins on our faces.
All in all… the perfect night. V. certainly seemed very happy in the morning.
B Side: “Sleeping Beauties”
After an exhausting week behind me, and with a busy weekend ahead, V.’s casual dinner invitation seemed perfect to take my mind off things for an evening. I arrived completely frazzled and tired from a hectic day and tried to unwind with a choice of M&S house wine. B. and I were joking with each other and raided his DVD collection while we were waiting for dinner. We discovered “Never Been kissed” and mocked V. for owning such a highschool Rom-Com classic. He told us the DVD was his roommate’s and he’d never even seen the movie.
By the time we had dinner, the tiredness and hunger had mixed with the wine to a state of sheer exhilaration. Every remark seemed funnier than the last, the food was manna from heaven and “Never Been Kissed” had been stylised into the best movie of all times. Closing V.’s gap in popular culture knowledge, we put it on after dinner – that this seemed like a fantastic idea should show what state we were in.
Anyway, we retreated to the sofa, huddling in the middle so we could all see the tiny laptop screen. Shortly, we were all leaning on each other, trying to make ourselves as comfortable as a two-seater sofa will three people ever allow to be. And that’s all I remember of the next two hours. The familiar movie in the background, the warm apartment, ample wine and a full belly achieved what I’d been yearning for all through my exhausting week: a nap on a sofa. Yeah, it wasn’t my sofa, and there were two other people on it, but that seemed a pretty minor dent in my state of bliss. I previously told you that B. and I have lots in common – apparently our propensity to doze off on the sofa after dinner is one of them. Yes, within 20 minutes we were both asleep, draped over poor V. who didn’t dare to move and was thus forced to watch “Never Been Kissed” with two sleeping ladies in his lap.
I woke up to the rolling credits of the movie around 1am, long after the last tube had gone. B. was still sleeping soundly. I coaxed her to come with me to V.’s bedroom, where we shared his bed (which came with pre-crumpled sheets) for the rest of the night. V. himself slept on the couch.
All in all, the perfect night? Anyway, it was just what B. and I needed.
I Wish There Were A Manual For Life 