Gary came into the shop looking rather flustered.
"I have a very quick, but slightly odd question, do you have any Brasso?"
"Not that I know of, why?"
"Long story, and I have to rush, picking dad up." I had almost forgotten our odd conversation when my phone went off. 'Sorry about earlier. Dad's insisting we have a father-son weekend.' 'OK and the Brasso?' 'If I survive until Sunday (not guaranteed) then I have another RAF do and need to polish my buttons as it were.' I was laughing so hard at his choice of phrase that I had to put my cup of tea down, for fear of spilling it down myself.
"Did you find out why Gary was acting odd yesterday?"
"He's spending the weekend with his dad, you know they don't get on."
"I actually meant the Brasso."
"Oh, he has another RAF thing soon so wants to polish the polishable bits of his uniform."
"So I have to put up with you daydreaming about him and doing even less work than usual."
"Rude."
On Sunday afternoon I was catching up on the previous night's Strictly, I had missed it because once again mum was trying to set me up with another awful person (unusually, as far as I know, we weren't related in any way), when I was interrupted by a knock at the door. I opened it to find Gary, except a Gary who appeared to have aged 15 years.
"Well I survived, just."
"Clearly, but more importantly did you get the Brasso?"
"Yes, because he took me to the ironmongers to buy me a present."
"Seems like a strange place to buy a present."
"The actual present was stranger, a hammer and various sized nails, he doesn't think I am practical enough so is slowly building me a toolkit."
"I'm sure you'll find it very useful." I was trying not to laugh at him as he had clearly had a terrible weekend.
"I actually have to ask a favour about the RAF do, I need a date, last time everyone commented about my lack of one, so do you know anyone who would want to go?"
"You could ask Stevie."
"Right, OK" He said leaving the flat looking rather puzzled.
Stevie wasn't too pleased the next morning when I told her what had happened.
"He wanted you to say you would be his date, isn't it obvious?"
"Clearly not to me." With expert timing Gary came in.
"So, have you had any ideas?" Before I could reply Stevie started.
"She would never ask this, and in fact thought you were actually asking for ideas, but were you in fact asking Miranda out." Mum also came in, and unfortunately caught the end of what Stevie was saying.
"Who's asking Miranda out?"
"Gary is." He looked rather annoyed at this.
"We are both here, and can speak for ourselves, yes that's was what I was asking last night, so will you be my date?"
"Of course I will, but why didn't you just say that last night, I would have been a much nicer moment without an audience."
Well the day of the party has finally arrived, and thankfully I had avoided the ordeal of dress shopping as I found the dress I wore to a garden party that mum threw a few years ago, in the back of the wardrobe. Even more thankfully it still fitted, even if it was a little tight. As I still didn't bend in the right way to do it up, so had to wait for Stevie to do it up for me, so I had to wait in the office as we had a rush on, which was rather strange for a Saturday afternoon, but I wasn't going to complain. In the end Gary did it, we had a taxi booked and was a bit early so we didn't have to fiddle with it in the back of a car.
When we arrived I was still in a bit of a panic that I would be massively underdressed (despite checking 3 times with Gary that the dress was OK) and that I would be the only one not in a ballgown. It was a very fancy party and we had our arrival announced and then we were handed glasses of champagne, I could get used to this life. I was very annoyed at Gary for not introducing to his friends as some of them were rather good looking, I made the point of telling him this, and he didn't look too happy about it. So I had to reassure him that I wasn't going to leave him on his own and embarrass him by going off with someone else.
When it came to the meal I felt a little left out as they kept talking about people who I didn't know and had lots of in jokes. Gary was helping me by explaining who people were and why they were laughing, but if you have to explain a joke for any reason, generally makes it a bit pointless. We did have a good giggle that didn't need explaining when Gary managed to dribble tomato soup down his front, and then one of the other people on the table (I think she is called Vicky, but I can't be sure) managed to do my trick and knocked a bottle of red wine over ruining both the tablecloth and her white dress. Though I was to cause the most commotion when I knocked a knife on to the floor, bent over to pick it up, which was accompanied by a loud ripping sound, and an unusual breeze around my back. Yes my dress had split, so I had to spend the rest of the evening with Gary's jacket on so I didn't spend the rest of the night showing everyone my knickers. In fact the only time I took it off (obviously before Gary got to his house) was for the group photo, and as we were on the back row and up against a wall I could take it off without any problems.
I quite liked the DJ as he played what he called 'party tunes' and what I call my kind of music, not that I was doing much, or in fact any dancing, I had made enough of a fool of myself for one night, I was even managing to resist the Spice Girls, though the guy next to us seemed to be rather uncofortable.
"Chris, it's your favourite band." The seemed to go even redder. Gary explained to me that he had had a massive crush on Geri Halliwell when they were in cadets together and we've never let him forget it, I never knew Gary could be such a meanie.
There is only so much of my favourite music I can listen to before breaking my self imposed 'no dancing' rule, and appropriately enough it was Billy Joel who pushed me over the edge. Gary was less than impressed as he was quite happy to sit there having a beer and laughing at the dancers, I politely reminded him that being there was a favour to him and he should do one to me, and that it would be dancing. In the end he gave in to my logic and wearily followed me out on to the floor. He won't admit it, but he had good fun I wish I had got a picture of his face when he was doing the YMCA, he absolutely loved it. He even appeared to enjoy the slow dance, despite me once again telling him off for laughing at the man I know to be called Christian, and who was a very nice guy, and didn't deserve to be laughed at like that. He certainly used a lot of energy dancing as he fell asleep on me in the taxi on the way home and drooled down my shoulder, which was lovely.
"Gary" I said shaking him awake "we're at your house, you need to get out." He looked momentarily confused.
"Oh right, and thanks for tonight, I had a great time."
"Me too, so if you need another idea for a date you know where I am." He was still laughing to himself as he was struggling with his keys as he drove away. A minute or too later I got a text. 'I'm in!' was all it said.
The End