Well the inevitable happened this weekend. I guess the only real shock is that it took this long.
As almost every doctor in Dublin took the previous weekend off to attend the rugby match, it meant that Dr McRide had Saturday off. He was debating options when I cleverly suggested drinks and the match in our place ( nobody over 30 has parties anymore it’s either dinner or drinks – happy Vodka jelly memories when the only food preparation was opening a packet of Tayto). I reasoned that he could meet more locals and get to invite some people from work – ideally other single doctors.
The usual panic of pre-party shopping, cooking and cleaning took place in the morning. It was really great to have someone to share the work with. I can see a definite co-relation between the rise of relationships and drop in the serving classes. Partners function as excellent, chauffeurs, bag carriers and commis chefs.
The first half of the game was a bit dismal and it was looking like a ‘drown-your-sorrows-night’ which was fine as I was happy to provide my shoulder and any other part of my anatomy for Dr McRide to cry on. But the second half more than made up for the bad start with lots of excuses to hug Dr. McRide. Granted we didn’t win but the mood was still relatively buoyant afterwards – until 8pm.
All of sudden the buzzer went into warp speed and gang after gang of women started showing up. The front door was like the finish line of the ‘Women’s Mini Marathon’. Turns out that Dr. McRide didn’t stop at inviting the doctors; the nurses got a call up too. For the rest of the night women were clustered around Dr. McRide tighter than an atom and you had as much chance of splitting them apart.
At 11pm I finally gave up when I found one of the many Hot Lips giving mouth to mouth to Dr. McRide on the balcony. I have to admit to being pretty gutted. On the bright side it does imply he’s not gay!
Thankfully I took some inspiration from Eddie* and booty called up a new player who provided me with a nice, big, strong ……. shoulder to cry on. Granted like the Irish rugby team it wasn’t the score I wanted, but it wasn’t a total wipe out.
*Irish rugby coach who finally brought some new players onto the pitch on Saturday
Assuming you are very drunk, in a dark room and squinting - a lot. Email me on Irishflirtysomething at hotmail.com
February 11th, 2008 at 2:07 pm
Oh crap! I recommend strapping him down and pouring drink down his throat until he capitulates. Kudos on the booty call!
Oh and by the way - congratulations on making the Irish Blog Awards shortlist! If you don’t win it’ll be a travesty…
February 11th, 2008 at 2:19 pm
All is not lost! The first time I went to a party at the Major’s he had invited every girl in Montpellier and got together with a Swedish girl within seconds of my arrival. I left feeling gutted shortly after. A few months later he finally noticed me and hasn’t noticed anyone since. (well that’s what he says.) Glad you had a good night.
February 11th, 2008 at 2:38 pm
Yvonne - only managed to get him drunk for someone else - thanks for the blog tip off, didn’t realise!
Red - it has been 4 months, we live in blind hope.
February 11th, 2008 at 4:05 pm
It doesn’t imply anything of the sort - I’ve kissed many women in my day… although never on the balcony so you might have a point after all
Congrats on the short lists! Maybe you’ll get a celebration kiss from McRide.
February 11th, 2008 at 4:45 pm
At least you got a try in - congrats on being shortlisted too!
February 11th, 2008 at 4:46 pm
Oh, and I’d kick Dr. McRide into touch.
February 11th, 2008 at 4:51 pm
Perhaps you should tell him you need to practise your mouth to mouth respiration as you’re a bit rusty and who knows when an emergency might crop up? Then after one of your smouldering kisses, he’ll be unstoppable….
February 11th, 2008 at 5:35 pm
Con - thanks, fair point he was more kissed than kissing.
Caro - lol, small try, thanks
Nick - ever the optimist
February 12th, 2008 at 3:57 pm
Nurses, ever dependable.
February 12th, 2008 at 9:14 pm
Nurses can smell a house party a mile away. They hate to see “their” doctors being annexed by anyone else. It wouldn’t surprise me if the nurse giving Dr McRide mouth-to-mouth had stuck a syringe filled with a dodgy substance in his backside seconds earlier.
Well done with the booty call - any chance of him turning into something more permanent?
February 13th, 2008 at 11:27 pm
I just stumbled across your blog - you don’t want to go out with a McRide, McDreamy or McSteamy etc, doctors are up their own arses, they call it self-endoscopy.