Monday 3 June 2013

To all my "ones"...

A bit of context to the title of this blog. Basically, I seemed to have developed quite the habit for calling people, "my one". It started off harmlessly enough - I took my guidance from my TRUE one, the (sadly) fictional Mark Corregan, who also thinks that anyone who bears even the slightest resemblance in interests to him must be his one.

Annoyingly I couldn't find a link of him thinking someone could be his one, but this is an absolute classic instead. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZSIMwZaZ_A

I think I can actually pinpoint the origins of this disastrous habit. I was out at a power ballads night called "Ultimate Power", which is as awesome as you suspect. I believe I'd just finished a particularly moving sing-a-long rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" and feeling the spirit of Bonnie within me, I went to the bar and got chatting to the bloke standing next to me.

I can tell you literally, nothing about his man. I think he was wearing a red t-shirt. That's it. Anyway we got chatting, and he was pleasant enough (he was wearing a nice enough red t-shirt for it to stick out in my memory) and he made a Peep Show reference. In my drunken and power-ed (geddit) state, I took this as a sign that he was a) potentially my one and b) would definitely get the reference as in a Mark Corregan way of calling someone your one.

Predictably, he didn't. Sadly I can't remember how our conversation went from this moment on, but given that I'm not currently married with children to this bloke, I'm going to take a guess and say not brilliantly. I subsequently have blurry memories of charging about this club in London, taking breaks between ballads and screech along singing to get more drinks etc, and I saw him a couple more times around the club. Each time I spotted him for whatever unknown possessed reason, I would start pointing and shouting "hey it's my one! HEY ONE!!!". He definitely fled each time, I mean really the dude would like gallop away. Great start.

So that was the beginning, and since then, it has escalated. Many many experiences have taught me that, NO ONE GETS THE PEEP SHOW REFERENCE, literally no one. I really must start to take this on board. It has gotten to the point of being almost totally out of control. Some of the people I have termed as being "my one" have included:

My optician,
David Mitchell
Stranger on Twitter
Colleagues
A friend's Mum
A friend's Dad
Potentially, a zombie
Anyone who comes within a 5 yard radius after I've had "a few"

That doesn't mean that each and every one (excluding perhaps the zombie) aren't/weren't special to me. Sure I'm pretty generous with my labeling, but there's always a good motivation behind it. Apart from when I'm drinking, then really everyone is at risk.

So to all my "ones" out there, it's been special. And to all my future ones...it's going to be ace. Big love.