Sometimes in life you stumble upon people that genuinely care about you. When you find these people, dear readers, hold on tightly.
Whether they be friends, family, co-workers, people online you will never meet.
If someone cares about you, is happy for your happiness and sad for your sadness; cherish them. They are important. And rare.
I am lucky enough to have several of these people in my life.
One of whom I have had the pleasure of knowing for 23 years. And he turned 26 this year.
In celebration of this fact, I suggested that we attend a silent disco which was being held in the Shard in London. This suggestion was met with such enthusiasm that before I even had time to 'like' the event on Facebook, I was being informed that a ticket had been purchased for me and I should therefore organise my life sufficiently to attend on 12th February.
And thus began the rather bizarre (but awesome) weekend of Amy Jay and Sammy Ay (2016).
 |
| Looking pretty respectable at the start of the night...it went sharply downhill from here |
We trundled off to the Shard (well I tottered in my ridiculous AmyJay patented heels) and boogied our little bums off!
 |
| Plus the view was pretty epic. (Exhibit A) |
It was an amazing night and I would recommend it to anyone - it was busy but not heaving, the drinks were actually decently priced for London and there was always something that we enjoyed singing or dancing to on one of the three channels.
(Admittedly, we spent the majority of our night listening to the cheesy red channel but I have photographic proof that we listened to the blue and green channels at least a little bit. See Exhibit A, above.)
In any event, the night was epic - we stayed until it closed - and then we headed back to Sammy Ay's flat. Sadly, this was something of an adventure all by itself as we struggled with Uber drivers trying to pick us up from outside London Bridge train station.
But we made it home eventually! (And promptly ordered pizza. London, dear readers, is open for anything at any time; including pizza at 4 in the morning. Epic.)
After eating an entire pizza to myself, I snuggled up with Sammy Ay and went to sleep, safe in the knowledge that I would not have a hang over in the morning thanks to my beer (prosecco, darling) sponge.
 |
| ...not quite as dignified now! |
...and then came the adventures of Sam's actual birthday.
NB: Some of the following circumstances and conversations may have been dramatized (slightly) for humorous effect.
AJ (Me): It’s your birthday today, Sammy! We are in London and I want to take you out somewhere. We can do whatever you want so have a think and let me know.
(SA ponders this prospect very seriously for several quiet moments and then gives me a Look.)
SA: Okay…(pause for dramatic effect) Since you found out your ex was cheating on you, have you had a sexual health check up?
(AJ, blinks owlishly, laughs heartily and wonders where this swift change of topic has come from)
AJ: Err…no actually I-
SA: That’s what I want to do today then.
(AJ gapes unattractively at SA)
AJ: What? No it’s not! We can do anything at all – museums, touristy things, a nice lunch, cocktails…
SA: You said anything and that is what I want to do. Look, I’ll come with you and get it done too so you won’t be on your own. It will be over really quickly and then you’ll know for definite that you are okay.
AJ: But I don’t even have any-
SA: DON’T YOU DARE SAY YOU DON’T HAVE ANY SYMPTOMS, YOUNG LADY! You might have something and not know it and then you could be infertile. INFERTILE. (SA goes on a caring, Nurse-like rant about STDs and INFERTILITY whilst AJ still gapes unattractively).
AJ: OKAY! Okay, okay we will go.
SA: Thank you. …it’s only because I care, you know.
AJ: …I know.
(SA and AJ share A Moment. Lights go down.)
~*~*~*~*~*~
So we decide to begin our day in a small, independent, in no way chain-y coffee shop whose name may or may not have rhymed with Sharstucks because caffeine, London and reasons.
Inside there is probably a 10-15 minute wait for hot drinks and there are 7 or 8 people queuing up on this drizzly, Sunday morning.
I receive my chai latte (oh, yes, dear readers, I’m one of ‘those’) with no drama and we move to exit the coffee shop.
I am safely through the door, as is the front half of SA, when I hear behind me ‘oof-blop-splash’.
Turning around, I take in the sight with horror.
SA has knocked someone’s £4.50 coffee out of their hands and it is now trickling down the street like the blood of a fallen soldier.
This is the number 1 reason why people get shanked in London. (Jointly tied with snarky Blog Posts probably.)
SA is frantically apologising to the devastated patron and offering to buy him a replacement coffee when the most London-y response of all Londoners is uttered:
Sad Coffee Man: I don’t have time for this!!
And that was that. We scampered away with our tails between our legs and my chai latte cradled protectively to my chest.
Ain’t no fool knocking this one out of my hands.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Upon arriving at the clinic in Soho, it is immediately apparent that I Do Not Know What I Am Doing when the friendly chap behind the counter smiles at me and I look blankly at SA and say (OUT LOUD) ‘What do I want?’ in a manner not dissimilar to that of a toddler ordering McDonalds with Mummy.
SA, rather despairingly, informs the man that we would like a check up each and we are promptly given a time to return in about an hour.
This leaves us with enough time to find somewhere to have lunch so we toddle off.
And eat in a small, independent, no way chain-y Italian place that may or may not have rhymed with Schmizza Exschmess.
When we return to the clinic, I have to register my details online which takes less than 5 minutes and am then handed an ominous looking tube. The friendly chap behind the counter must have taken in my wide-eyed expression of panic and taken pity on me for he was very gentle with his explanation of what would happen next.
I was to take myself off to one of the private rooms, take a quick swab (the location of which I will leave to your imagination although probably not very hard to figure out given the circumstances in which this tale is told) and then I would have a blood test.
This, all in all, did not sound too bad; I didn’t even have to pee in a cup! (Something of a disappointment given that I had held in my chai latte and elderflower fizz from lunch in anticipation of needing to provide a sample.)
SA, however, was not as lucky.
Multiple samples, a blood test and a finger prick later…
SA: You okay?
AJ: Yeah, wasn’t as bad as I thought. Just the one swab and the blood test.
SA: (anger begins to cloud SA's face)…what?
AJ: What?
SA: That’s it?! …you bloody breeders *grumble grumble* (SA puts still bleeding finger into mouth in the most dignified way he can but definitely appears to be visibly pouting).
AJ: (Trying to lighten the mood) Maybe they just didn't like the look of you?
SA: .... (Is not amused)
AJ: Okay, well, I got blood all over my new shirt though because I couldn’t stop bleeding after they took my blood test. …make you feel any better?
SA: (Mumbles around finger still in mouth) …a bit.
AJ: Good! Now, come on, let’s go buy you a plaster from Boots!
~*~*~*~*~*~
The reason this is a shining example of a true friend is thus; Sam wanted to spend his birthday doing something that solely benefited me and my health. There was nothing for him to gain in doing this, no benefit and it would not effect his life in any way whether I got checked or not. And yet, despite all of this, he was so insistent that we go because he cared that much about me and my well-being.
That is a true friend right there.
TL;DR – My friend made me go for a sexual health check up on his birthday. Hilarity ensues.
&&Fin.
