Saturday, September 11, 2010

"Wingman"



A little verbal camouflage may be required here. I have a friend, let's call him... erm... 'Pope Ian', of no fixed abode, Leytonstone (yes that should do it). He's good to hang out with, his easygoing style puts you well at ease, even laughs at my jokes which is a bit above and beyond. Great company. However, he is also a magnet for acts of randomness, that at worst turn into an amusing dinner party anecdote, and at best have been life defining moments.


One such example I can recall, fits somewhere in the middle. Pope Ian had been out trying to buy coat hangers, when a young lady approaches from nowhere & tells him, not to buy his hangers as the shop down the road is much cheaper. Buoyed by this consumer advice, Pope Ian then asks the lady if she knew of anywhere local that had cheap Internet?

Roll forward 15 minutes, he's in her flat using her Internet and he hears the popping of a wine cork. Half a bottle later, her ex-boyfriend walks in. I get a phone call. They've all gone down to the local pub and can I meet them there because this is weird and he needs back-up. Sadly I wasn't much help as several jugs of beer later, all four of us ended back up their flat. We needed to escape, but how? We did it by performing the Lambeth walk (they were Canadian and asked us to do it. We felt cheapened by the experience), walking high kicks and doffing imaginary toppers towards the front door, closing it quickly behind us and back to normality. If this seems strange to you, you should have been there!

Anyway, back to the present day. Pope Ian is at a leaving do of someone he hardly knows. Gets talking to people he simply doesn't know and manages to get an invite to a housewarming party that not even God knows. From the very little we know about the host from her myspace page, we know that she is a Classical composer, Cambridge Uni then Royal Academy of Music, multi award winning international jet setter. Not his usual type you might say.

Far too afraid to go on his own (and I don't blame him) Pope Ian went recruiting for a Wingman! Someone who is witty, urbane, steeped in the classics and not quite as charming as he is. After several scores of rejections from more suitable candidates, I got the nod, as has... erm.... Tiberius Banks (yes that should do it). So tonight we're all of to a party where we don't know a soul and have no a clue what to expect. Nevertheless, I intend to discharge my responsibilities with my usual commitment to my friends.

What does a wingman actually do? More research was required. Wikipedia defines it as a role that "a person may take when a friend needs support with approaching potential partners. A wingman is someone who is on the "inside" and is used to help someone with relationships." No problem! I can do that. Just be nice remember to say nice things and don't talk to much (could be a problem actually).

But then I stumbled upon "Ode to the Wingman". Fantastic I thought, we have our own song!

This chick's rockin your bro' on the dance floor...
But she's towing an anchor
A junior investment banker
Who's talkin' 'bout herself and not much more, oh...
So buy her a beer, that's the reason you're here, mighty wingman
You're takin' one for the team
So your buddy can live the dream

Wingman...

Oh Sh*t! The Wingman is supposed to take out the 'Gatekeeper' isn't he....
This Wingman is grounded!