the light at the end of the tunnel turned out to be a glow worm

So.

She emailed me. Through my boss. He had exchanged addresses with "the opiate dancer" who had so successfully manipulated him to spend a couple of grand in one night. I think he's been ineptly stalking her on email for a few days now.

If I was writing a templated note to a client, it would be this. Dripping with hooks. Cleverly worded. "look forward to having fun", "I will never forget that night when you visited".

I feel like I'm reading a direct mail campaign from the Ford Motor company. But this flyer comes dipped in emotion and sexual promise.

Tightrope moment. The line twangs under my trembling feet. I'm hanging out over the abyss. To my left, a 12,000 foot drop. As I opened the email, the pure adrenalin rush was incredible. Hit reply. "Me too" "best night of my life" "never thought I'd feel that way". Nonsense. Breathe, go to a meeting, act grown up and give people good advice. I return to the computer and delete my reply. I would be the epitome of the punter: asking her out or suggesting that she spend time with me for free. I won't do that. Not under any circumstances. I absolutely and utterly refuse to fall that way.

To the right, a rocky outcrop with a raging sea beneath. Believing that she liked me more than all the other customers who are sent a generic "nice to see you please come back soon note".

As I ponder what to do I catch my eye in the pitch black night reflection of my hotel window. The person in the gloom is looking back at me almost blankly, but if I really stare, i can see the truth in his eyes. "She's a stripper, you are money"

After 3 hot teas and a drafted presentation this morning I hit reply again, this time I have grabbed my self control by the throat. A simple one liner.

"It was really great to see you too. I hope to come and see you again soon... I had an amazing amount of fun. Keep in touch!".

I've done an insane amount of travelling since I met her. twice across the Atlantic, twice across the US, twice into Europe. I wonder whether that's why I keep dreaming of plane crashes. Or maybe there's another reason....