On the eleventh day of Christmas…

I had many a prosecco before 7pm.

It was a semi-work event, in that the event was organised by work, but I wasn’t really working at it…so long live the free re-fills. I was mainly seated throughout, and my glass rarely was completely empty before it was topped up with more bubbles. Standing up to leave, I managed to remain composed, although I was feeling slightly wobbly. In a chic black outfit and heels, I clipped my way towards home.

The permanent smile was creeping onto my face, the one that the prosecco decides should be there. I called a friend and, understanding enough through my giggling that I may not make it back home, suggested I get a coffee and she would come meet me in the bar, so I had a chance to sober up.

bubbly

Ordering my macchiato, I took my spot along the long marble-topped bar and spotted two attractive men to my right. Probably due to a mix of the prosecco bubbles, feeling more ‘Continental’ than usual, and just generally being in Italy, I decided it would be the right time to ask one of them out. The tall, dark-haired one, looking unsuspectingly into his coffee cup, was minding his own business. Then, bam, there I was.

“Ciao…”

“Erm…”, looking around slightly panicked, “ciao?”

“Hi, I’m Catriona –nice to meet you”

“Erm…”

“Here’s my number (a business card, no less), we should go for a drink sometime.”

“Uh, sure, OK”

Probably for my own good, my friend arrived and we escaped the bar.

I thought nothing more if it, until said tall, dark-haired, attractive man did call. We went for a few drinks, however, the first coffee was at McDonald’s, so it was doomed to fail. He told me that he was half Spanish, half Italian, how exotic.  He was, however, lying through his teeth.

I pride myself on my online, and perhaps also offline, stalking/spy skills. Every time I asked about him or his family or personal life in general, his information was vague, and I was suspicious. After a mastermind Google session, I found his football team and real name printed below. Turns out he was Albanian and not called Claudio. I had an issue with the lying, so that was that, ciao ciao ‘Claudio’ the liar.

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