You know me well enough by now.
I’m sure you can imagine that I quite easily find myself in situations that are not only beyond my control but also often beyond my comprehension.
A few years ago a friend had set me up on a blind date. Now, I’m not usually one for the blind date – there’s usually a reason they don’t want you to see them beforehand – but this was a good friend with (normally) pretty good taste.
Anyway, me and blind date met in the city centre and we got on well. We started with dinner and the evening developed - from restaurant to bar; bar to club; club to cab; cab to his place. It was going great and I was convinced that my friends had come up trumps.
The blind date was a really nice guy – great conversation, good looking, steady job – and in the cab back to his yuppie flat in Edgbaston, I was quite happily contemplating where this would all lead. Little did I know that it was all leading to a very strange place indeed.
We get back to his and he makes me coffee.
We installed ourselves on his sofa and – as you can imagine – neither of us drank any coffee.
It must have been fifteen minutes or so later when he took my hand and led me towards another room.
“There's something I want you to do” he said.
I thought I had a pretty good idea of what that 'something' might be. How wrong I was.
He took me through the door into what must have been the spare bedroom. There were other people in there. Lots of them. I was unnerved, and he dissappeared.
But no, hold on, they’re not real people… They’re cardboard cut-outs.
And it was even worse than that. The room was populated by life-size cardboard cut-outs of WWF wrestlers. Oh yes. Oh no.
I turned to blind date and he had two lycra leotards in his hand.
“I want you to wrestle me”, he said, making a growling noise as he approached me.
Had I not been so drunk I might have said no.