Tender (Damon Albarn)

A Cliché Meeting

26th August 1991

My best friend and roommate Emily had somehow managed to drag me out of our flat and to a pub in the middle of London. Me and Emily are opposites, we have nothing in common.

The cold English air chilled me to the bone as me and Emily neared the pub. She was rambling on about how she wants me to meet a nice boy as I never left the flat and my last date was only a few months ago, but that didn't go very well.

"You need to give someone all that love you have in your big heart," she tells me, poking the centre of my chest.

"I don't want that person to be some dodgy lad I meet in a pub," I laugh and roll my eyes.

"Oh, you're no fun! There's bound to be at least one decent bloke in there," she says in an attempt to lift my spirits.

"I just don't want to end up with a dickhead," I shrug, "like last time."

She frowns, "Well if you do and he breaks your heart he'll know about it, like the last one."

Emily was a great friend, a bit crazy, but a bloody brilliant friend. She'd never let any man get between her and me, whenever I needed her she was there and whenever she needed me I was there for her.

She was beautiful too, long  blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was a lot thinner than me, she had the body of a model, which I envied. God, I envied everything about her, she'd be eyed up by boys all the time. She has long legs and a cheeky smile, no boy could resist. They wouldn't bat an eyelid at me, if they did say anything it'd be 'woah your mate's fit' or 'what's 'er number?'

I sigh as we near the pub, it's bright signs and outdoor lights illuminating the dull night. She'll meet someone, she always does, I think to myself.

Emily pushes the pub door open for me and we step inside. As soon as the door closes I feel the warm, happy atmosphere of the pub. No one was drunk yet, by the looks of things and everyone seemed to be having a good time.

I scanned the pub, observing the people who where there until four boys caught my eye, one in particular. They where all sat at the bar, laughing and drinking beer. There where two boys with dark hair and two with lighter hair. My attention then shifted to only one of them.

The boy had sandy brown, bowl-cut hair and the most adorable smile. I don't know what it was about him, I couldn't even see his face properly from across the room, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from him.

I felt Emily's eyes on me but still couldn't look away. It seemed as if he was in slow motion, taking his pint to his lips, laughing, smiling, making jokes.

I shook my head and turned to Emily, realising how stupid I must look, she was smiling at me and giggling quietly.

"What?" I ask her.

She just continued to grin.

"What?" I repeat

"You like him," she says, pointing at the boy.

I quickly slap her hand down, "Don't point!"

"You do like him!"

"No! I don't even know him!" I say rolling my eyes.

"By the way you where looking at him it looks like you know him well," she says, nudging me.

"Shut up," I scowl.

"Whatever," she giggles, "want a drink?"

"Sure, I'll find a table an-"

"Oh no, no, no, we're going to the bar," she says, cuts me off.