Thursday, September 28, 2006

Jirting

There were three things that happened to me in the last few days, which I would not have imagined just a few short months ago:

1) Last night I was a bit late to meet everyone before Im’s birthday. As I neared the bus stop the 37 (notoriously unreliable bus) was just pulling away. Ordinarily, this would be an excuse for a swear word and a fag, but on this occasion I decided to run after it…. Must admit I wondered to myself what the hell I was doing, but I kept going. A merciful hold up in traffic later, and I managed to catch the bus up by the next stop! Check me out, I’m like Superman or something.

2) I was running round the park on Tuesday night and looked over my shoulder heading up the hill, noticing a bloke in a yellow t-shirt behind me. "Here we go, another one over-taking me", I thought. He still hadn’t gone past when I checked the second time, or the third. Then it dawned on me. I was someone else’s pacemaker! Someone else actually thought I was running at sufficient speed to gauge his own run against me! Woohoo! I am a runner!

3) I had my first experience of "jirting". I’m not sure if this is a word, but I have derived it from the word "smirting". Smirting is the pastime that takes place outside pubs with smoking bans, first experienced by me in Sweden over the summer, but now prevalent throughout Scotland as well. It is a combination of smoking and flirting whilst you are trapped in the company of someone you ordinarily would need to find an excuse to talk to.

My jirting moment(s) took place with a young lady with dark hair and a very attractive tight top, who was running the opposite way to me round the park. Each time we passed there were smiles and raised eyebrows between us. I must mention, however, that the actual moment of jirt is unfortunately brief, as stopping for a chat is not really an option. However, it does encourage you to do an extra lap of the park just in case you see her again. So in a way having the horn is good for your health.

For the record, she disappeared after lap 3.

2 comments:

  1. Anonymous5:27 am

    last seen sprinting towards the nearest cop shop to report that a sweat drenched jogger dressed as a potato was stalking her?

    ReplyDelete
  2. That hurts. You know better than anyone that it's not a costume, it's just my Irish genes.

    ReplyDelete