Holly took Alex and me to Bath last week (finally!) She used to live and work there, and her two cousins lived there with her, but one of them is moving to Australia, so she had a big "leaving do" (going away party). The city is GORGEOUS! if a bit resort-y. At the party, I started chatting to a bobsledder who went by the name "Swifty," and then we danced together. I think he could tell it wasn't gonna go anywhere, though, and as soon as the lights came up, he bunked off. Fine, whatever.
And then last night Holly received a text from her cousin that said:
"Kusems snogged Swifty!"
Has a charming ring to it, doesn't it? Holly turned to me and asked, "Did you snog Swifty?" We had already discussed the whole evening, and she'd been there anyway, but I reassured her that I had not, in fact, snogged Swifty. Still, I think that sentence will haunt me forever. He couldn't have been called Jack or Tom or Louie, could he? It had to be Swifty. There had to be a question of whether I had or had not made out with someone called...Swifty.
He was cute, though. And ripped.