The Colombian Assassin and a Friend-Zoned Therapist

I’ve slacked off recently on keeping up with my blogging but I wanted to check in and recount my night out in London.


Waterloo Station

I was traveling to the UK on a weeklong work trip that was bookended with nights in London. Myself and my 3 fellow travelers were staying near Waterloo station and were able to get around to see a few spots before posting up in a little bar/hostel just behind and down from the aforementioned Waterloo station.

This night we found our way into the Walrus Bar & Hostel when England was playing Russia in a football (soccer) match. If you’re and American there’s no experience like watching a soccer match with the fans of that country! Jam packed, loud, rambunctious, crazy atmosphere.


The Walrus Bar and Hostel

At some point or another I bumped into a lady at the bar and was invited to sit with her and her (dude) friend. Let’s call her Vanessa, and let’s call him Fraser. The names are changed to protect the innocent, that and I can’t actually remember their names. So I sat down with Fraser and Vanessa worried that I was nearing a beat-down of some sort since he was obviously her boyfriend (or so I thought). As the night progressed and the drinks continued I quickly came to realize that this man, this well-educated, snobby arrogant guy was stuck squarely in the friend-zone. For anyone that might now know what the friend-zone is, it’s that spot in a woman’s life that a man finds himself stuck. He’s the guy she always goes to for advice and is always there for her while desperately wanting to be her man. She of course isn’t interested but loves having the guy there that she can rely on. But, back on track here.

This guy, we’ll now call him Friend-zone Fraser, worked for several hours that night to demonstrate his worthiness as a soulmate to Vanessa to no avail. I was however regaled with a story about how she had killed a random assailant back in her home country of Colombia. Long story short a man had attempted mug her and she had randomly turned and slashed away with a knife she was carrying and (allegedly) killed the man. She was of course quite concerned about this story getting out but like I said, the names have been changed here.


So here we are sitting in a pub, surrounded by loud and boisterous soccer fans and Friend-zone Fraser is faux-building her up as this amazingly skilled Colombian hit woman. Unfortunately, the story has an anti-climactic ending where Friend-zone Fraser and Vanessa are sitting in the back corner of the bar having heart-to-heart discussions and me linking back in with my fellow travelers to go on our way. I felt compelled to share this experience but maybe it was one of those “you had to be there” moments.

Oh, and England lost the game too.

I’m headed back to Estonia in the next few weeks so look for some new blog posts and especially pictures on #Twitter. And if by chance you’ll be there too let me know.



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