A story about a date

Last Saturday we had a party. A housewarming party. It was a good party. Some say a great party. 80's theme: the music, the food, the outfits, the works. I played Queen of the Cocktails and got everyone verily drunk.*

My French Friend was there. She lasted until the jug of Shakey Milken Banana with Whiskey** was passed round, and claims to not remember much else after that. That would include not really remembering giving out her phone number.

Sunday dawns, or rather afternoons, and My French Friend receives a voicemail message from someone called Ned***. It's not a common name, Ned. He mentions 'party' 'your number' and 'dinner' and she thinks that she vaguely remembers someone she thinks may indeed have been called Ned and even remembers possibly, maybe giving him her number.

I receive a frantic French accented email: "Who ze hell iz Ned?"

Duly, I gather Housemates around my laptop to view the photos in an impromptu identification parade. Girl Housemate #2 points a finger and declares: "Ned!" She proclaims him to be 'nice', 'sweet', 'funny, if a bit cocky.' Fair enough. Sounds harmless. Attach. Send.

"Aah, oui, I remember zis person. Cool."

A date is susequently arranged. The day arrives and she goes on her way with my voice ringing in her ears: "I expect full details please!"

I expected to hear about the restaurant, the bar, the conversation, the did he go in for a kiss. What I did not expect was a text message an hour later: "Nightmare...it's not who we thought it was! It's the Wrong Ned!"

What are the odds? Two boys, both called Ned, at the same party, talking to the same girl. Poor Ned the Wrong. What's more no one really knows who Ned the Wrong actually is. I didn't invite him, Housemates 1, 2 and 3 didn't invite him. My French Friend's face must have been a picture. She called me on her way home, walking in the rain rather than getting into the same cab, and I laughed until I couldn't breathe. With her, of course, never at her, hahahaha.

*they all made it home safely
** secret recipe available to those who submit something, anything, which makes me laugh out loud
***name changed to protect the flash, boring, posh boy