“Hi, my name’s Edmund,” Edmund said, holding a hand out.
Eleanor looked from the hand to Edmund’s face, then back to his hand again. “I don’t think so,” she finally said.
“Huh? You don’t think so?”
“You’re not really my type, sorry.”
“Umm…okay? I was just introducing myself.”
Eleanor sighed. “Yes, you were introducing yourself to a woman at a pub, so you could chat her up, get her number, take her home, and have sex with her.”
Edmund looked at his still outstretched hand, then lowered it. “No, actually. I was introducing myself to a woman at a pub wearing a Doctor Who t-shirt because I share a common interest and was hoping to meet a new friend. Don’t get me wrong, you’re pretty and all. But I don’t know enough to call you attractive, and I’m not going to ask out someone I know so little about.”
“Right, and that’s why you chat me up for the next thirty minutes. Meanwhile, my friends are over there waiting for me.”
“Okay. Wait, I don’t think I came across quite right. I’m not looking to ‘pick up’,” Edmund made air quotes with his fingers. “I just wanted someone to talk to, maybe hang out with. As I say, I’m looking for a friend, or a group of friends. Yours look equally interesting as yourself.”
“Yeah, we don’t really want any newbies, sorry.” Eleanor lifted her beer. “I’m heading over there now.”
“Well, thanks for not even introducing yourself, and giving me another shitty impression of this shitty city.” Edmund turned away and looked down at his beer.
Eleanor stopped, sighed, and took a step back. “I’m Eleanor. And if you promise not to hit on me, grope me, or otherwise try to fuck me, you can come meet my friends and hang out. Platonically.”
Edmund’s eyes lit up. “Deal!” He followed her to the table, planning how to deflect her friends and get her home to his apartment that night.