Meeting for coffee

by DannyUK

“Let’s meet for coffee!”


I must have said – and meant – this phrase hundreds, if not thousands of times over the years. Let’s meet for coffee. We’ll chat, catchup, gossip and bitch. It’ll be great. But the truth is that meeting people for coffee never seems to live up to the expectations I set.

Suarez puts racism behind him. Or in this picture, in front of him.

I’ve just arranged to meet a couple of friends who live locally for coffee in an hour.

Now, being the slightly paranoid fool that I am, I find myself sitting here trying to have an active ‘tick list’ of stuff to talk about when I see them. “Oh, I could tell them how middle daughter puked on the carpet, that can be quite a funny story.” or “I must tell them how the hair trimmer ran out of charge just as I was tidying up my beard earlier.” I know it’s ridiculous.

I also know that even when I have done this kind of thing in the past, the tick-list never lives up to the high standards I set it. The story about middle daughter puking ends up being met by stony silence and bemused glances as I get more and more animated trying to raise a laugh, finally completing the story with that awkward silence that shows you that everyone else in the group doesn’t find it funny, and you wait. And wait. And wait. Until finally the silence is broken by someone else in the group changing the subject with the subtlety of a white Liverpool player throwing a “Celebrate Black History month” party a couple of days after being banned for 8 matches.

The Chronicle. Providing Tweet-ups and opportunities to embarrass yourself.

It’s one of the reasons I get on so well with Tasha who, to her eternal credit and my everlasting gratitude, laughs at just about anything I say.

This is a very good thing as I can be perceived as quite serious, and so people that I’ve never met, or only met briefly before, never know how to take me.

The case in example here is at a Twitter meet-up a few months back, meeting four employees of the local paper, the Essex Chronicle, and replying to the question “So what do you use Twitter for?” completely straight faced with the simple answer “To get laid.” And that, children, is why alcohol is a bad thing.

On to today. In an hour I am meeting Kip & Loz, a couple who I get on well with, enjoy the company of, but don’t know too well. I sometimes feel as though we are sizing each other up a little when we meet, such is the newness of our friendship, though I am equally able to file this under the “being stupid and paranoid” part of my brain, which is good.

Kip reminds me of me far too much. Geeky and shy (or as my fingers just typed out ‘Geeky and shit’. Ha!) He comes across as very funny with a quick wit, and a sarcastic side that shines on Twitter, yet in real life he can be very quiet until he gets talking, and then his online and offline personas seem to match.

This morning I was going to take the time to grab a coffee, read, and then head back to the house to revise on the Bank for my interview there tomorrow.

Coffee with Kip & Loz is a far more appealing idea, even to a shy loner like myself, with infinitely more caffeine too, so I’ve decided that the revision can wait until this afternoon. There’s only so many examples I can think of that show my good customer service side anyway to be honest, so an afternoon will be plenty to expand on those ideas in my head.

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