GetAndrewtoNZ

It's what your mother would want you to do

"Thanks. It's been fun, but..."

Ah, food poisoning. No, not on the date (although that would have made for an interesting talking point), but rather from my meal the following night. I'm now over recreating that scene from Team America (no, not that one, the other one where he's being sick) enough to fill you in on the goss from last Wednesday night.

Actually, as much as we've had fun this far, I don't think I will. I'll treat you to a little summary though: courtesy of a couple of recommendations, the venue chosen was The Malaya at Kings Street Wharf. The food was good, and it was the right sort of ambience for such an occasion: atmospheric enough but not too intimate for a first date setting. The service was ok but... no, you don't care. How was 'the girl', you ask? Well, she was great. Lived up to the expectation provided by her impressive description on the survey, as it turns out.

But as for further details? You know, whenever I caught - accidentally, of course - one of those reality dating shows on TV, I'd always think they were a terrible idea. To put people in a false environment where feelings are played for sport and some Casanova wannabe dishes out the same lines time after time to a whole bunch of different girls is pretty lame entertainment, not to mention pretty lame in terms of human behaviour. What kind of guy does that?? It occurred to me the other night that if I keep this going, I risk becoming that type of guy. I assume that the transition from romantic impulsive to sleazy schmuck is never a deliberate one, but one that creeps up on otherwise nice guys one poorly orchestrated date at a time. At least, one would hope it's not a deliberate choice - I'm going to give those guys the benefit of the doubt. 

So, my intention was a) to get myself to NZ and then b) to have some fun pursuing 'the nurse'... after that, I've just been winging it. But I think I've come as far as I'm comfortable with.

I'm not going to back out on the couple of dinner offers I've accepted (yes, Mum, that includes you) but I am backing out on running the details up on the blog. If you feel so heavily invested in my romantic escapades that this leaves you feeling empty inside, then I apologise... and I'm happy to keep writing you a fictitious version for a small fee. For a large fee, I'll include you in the last chapter. For an even larger fee, I'll make sure it ends 'happily ever after'. The level of happiness you get will be directly related to the amount you wish to pay me, so dig deep.

To all who've come along for the ride, I say thanks and hope you've had fun. ;-)

Something ventured, something gained... part 2

You know you’ve made it to the big time when your own mother resorts to leaving a comment on your blog survey in order to try and score dinner with you. I will admit she does make a good argument though:

Don’t all men treat their women as they do their mothers? So it would appear a good marketing exercise for you to be seen dining with your mum, showering her with flowers, laughing at all her jokes, etc. 

Mind you, I’m short on cash at the moment so I could be encouraged to supply my phone number to your readers for any further information if you choose not to accept this offer. 

I’m sure this was meant to finish with a ‘;-)’ or something else to indicate that the last bit was a joke... at least, I’m hoping so. Either that or I’ll be sitting by the Posterous management panel with my mouse over ‘delete comments’ for the next little while.

Anyway, Mum, the only problem with your argument is that this wasn’t supposed to be a marketing exercise for me – it was just about trying to score dinner with a cute nurse. So no, I won’t have dinner with you to try and improve my image... but I will have dinner with you anyway because I really am such a wonderful, loving, adorable son. So much so that Telstra doesn’t even have to remind me to call you, which is nice.

As for the other commenters, I didn’t explicitly say I’d be publishing their comments from the survey but I think it’s probably implied, yes?

There’s no doubt that this particular one caught my eye, so I asked the writer’s permission to publish it (in slightly edited form):

...this lovely lady will shower you with affection, support your ambitions, be straight with you, especially when you’re being a twat; cheer at your football/rugby/dragonboat race/cricket match, be your best friend. She'll leave you on your own to sulk, but will bring you soup when you’re sick. She might even get beers from the fridge for you & your mates...without u even asking ;)

She’s damn smart, very ambitious, volunteers for charities, plays music (though not so well), plays sport, loves being active. An overachiever, but you definitely won’t find her bragging. She’s a team player, and will build something grand with you. She can dress up for a business meeting, or throw on jeans and trawl through a sticky-floored pub with you. 

Now, we’re not suggesting a marriage proposal, slow down there [relieved to hear it!]. But do think perhaps you might enjoy a friendly drink, a little to eat, and some entertaining banter to see where the sequel leads. What do you say? [email address withheld]

Wow. Don’t you love it when the tables are turned??

So what did I say? Well, after a little email discussion, I’ll be venturing out on a date tonight. Hey, my original plan may have been all about the nurse, but what would most single guys do if they got the above invitation? You’ve got to admit, it is rather persuasive.

The only problem with this scenario is that I’ve been reliably informed that she also dined recently with Prince William. That’s a pretty hard act to follow. But she’s in PR, so I’ll throw her a free headline for tomorrow’s news: ‘Sydney chick ditches Prince William for Prince Charming’. Or something.

Wish me luck.

Something ventured, something gained...

What fun. After pretending for a week that I'm not actually a partner in a company and hence devoting my waking (and some that should have been sleeping) hours to certain romantic shenanigans and subsequent blog updates, this week I've been back at work. As earlier noted, 'I'm sorry, I haven't had time for that, Miss Client' is not really a valid excuse when they've been able to read all about what I have had time for on this site.

Oh, and I'm going to start this with a comment I feel I need to make: I'm not desperate.  While I may be a hopeless romantic (seems likely), I'm definitely not a desperado. So it's nice that my friends in social media circles have taken to finding me a girl now that my 'date the nurse' plan has fallen through – it really is flattering/touching/kind of creepy – but suggestions that I run a Youtube Channel devoted to my escapades and calling for 'contestants', with my mother appearing on the judging panel (I'm not kidding), probably isn't what I'd call 'positive personal brand reinforcement'.

At least I can now rest assured that there's empirical data available to prove, if ever required, that I'm not a stalker. In fact, 89.7% of people surveyed thought my actions made me romantic rather than a stalker... and one of those who claimed I was a stalker asked me on a date anyway (I have a sneaking suspicion that it was Lindsay Lohan, she needs some attention post-lesbianism).

Here's a summary:

1. Please tick one of the following:
 


 Response
Percent
A - You're so romantic
T
39.3%
B - Are you a convicted stalker?
T
7.1%
C - Forget the nurse, have dinner with me
T
17.9%
D - Both A and C
T
32.1%
E - Both B and C (hey, some people are weird)
T
3.6%
DownloadCreate Chart2. Did you Google me at some point after reading my blog?
 


 Response
Percent

Yes. I didn't know you were related to Luke and Owen Wilson
T
6.9%
Yes, and it was pretty disappointing. You're really quite boring
T
3.4%
Yes, I am stalking you on Facebook too
T
6.9%
Yes, but I don't want to admit it
T
13.8%
No
T
69.0% 
I had some great responses to the alternative ending suggestion. Perhaps my favourite comes courtesy of my good mate Steve, who played the role of 'OtherAndrew's porter/driver/slave' while I was in NZ:
'As it turns out, the nurse's relationship with this guy is on the rocks, and she decides to use the duel option as a way of deciding between the two of you. You arrive for the battle, only to discover her boyfriend actually IS Hugh Grant.'
It's kind of funny (and let's be honest, he wouldn't exactly be a formidable adversary), but failing any greater commitment from my friends at Virgin Blue, I don't think I have the budget to cast Hugh Grant. Maybe I could crowdsource the funding from all the guys who've ever wanted to punch him in the face, and then I could donate the surplus to charity.

To the two people who suggested the alternative that I run away with the nurse's boyfriend, you've seriously misunderstood me. While I suppose it's my fault for not specifying that it was a female nurse, the stick-figure wearing a dress should have been a giveaway. But hey, maybe some guys may roll that way...

This alternative was a little bitter but made me laugh: Date someone else who is amazing, become emotionally attached, have a great time together, then face the slow stagnation of your relationship, ending in heartbreak and devastation. Then settle for me.

Wow, we can all dream.

Of course, there were 'a few' offers of dinner in there too. From whom? A few people I actually know, and a few I don't... yet. But all that's for tomorrow's post.

For now, here's a special shout-out to Virgin Blue from this story's first 'happy couple', Josh & Kara (my friends whose wedding I was desperate to get to in NZ):

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The moment of truth has arrived...

Last night I was working back late when an email dropped into my inbox. The subject line was 'Picking up nurses'. Now obviously, I've had a few people email me about this over the last few days, but I didn't recognise the name of the sender this time. Then it dawned on me.

Could it be?

Alas, it could... and, in fact, it was too. That nurse, the nurse, had got in touch. Would it contain a fawning 'that's the most romantic thing ever, I'm all yours for dinner' or perhaps a 'cease and desist' note with an AVO for an attachment? I'm not really sure what I was expecting. Everything. Nothing. Who knows?

I opened it and smiled.

Without further ado, I present the email below. After that, I've posted my response (and yes, I made sure she was ok with this first).

On 12/01/2010, at 11:05 PM, [name withheld] wrote:

Dear Andrew,

Thank you for the beautiful flowers!  

My apologies for causing such suspense, I just returned to work today and got a rather large reception.  Apparently 12500 people have become 12500 people PLUS all of the RNSH emergency department.  

Your efforts were very flattering and definitely romantic, BUT... and I hate to ruin the movie... I have a boyfriend!  He's totally up for a duel though and apparently he suggests the battle arena ought be an XBOX game rather than a set of dueling pistols... although I would definitely enjoy being dressed in 1700's attire with two men fighting over me - of course I have friends in the know who can patch you two up later if things were to get a little messy..

Anyway, sounds like you had good t ime at your mate's wedding, I hope your wounds are healing well.

[name withheld - from you guys, not me of course]

2010/1/12 Andrew Wilson <apwilson@me.com>


Haha, so the suspense is finally over!

I just posted a comment on my blog then:

"By the way, I was thinking about posting an online survey:

1. Please tick whichever applies:

[ ] I think it's romantic

[ ] I think you're a stalker

[ ] Forget the nurse, take me to dinner instead

What do you think? I guess if even I'm tossing up between the first and second ones, it might be time to give it a rest... but I've seen enough chick flicks to know that that's not a very good ending, is it?" [NB Due to people actually answering the above survey on Twitter anyway, I've created a proper one with a few bonus questions thrown in: http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/NJK7YLF]

I trust that it was all fun rather than a concern for you... it was a bit of a gamble when I knew nothing of your status anyway, but I couldn't help myself. Maybe this was how Tiger Woods started out? A nice, normal guy gets a little bit of attention and it's all downhill from there... it begins with nurses and ends with 14 women from nightclubs across the country.

It sounds like your boyfriend's a good sport. Personally, I reckon he's probably just as flattered that you've had all that attention, yes? But my XBOX skills are a little rusty so I'll have to pass on the digital duel. A pistol duel in period costume would be another matter, and would make for a fantastic video. Unfortunately, I think paintball is as close as we could get.

The wedding was great, and it was fantastic that I was able to get there after thinking I wouldn't make it. I'm still a little uncomfortable but definitely improving too, thank you.

Now I've got to put all my creative juices to the test to figure out how to come up with an ending that doesn't seem like an anti-climax...

Anyway, thanks for taking the time to respond, I appreciate it. :-)

Hey, I don't suppose you'd be ok with me removing your name and quoting your response, do you? (I'm fine either way, so don't stress if not).

All the best,

Andrew

I guess it's a disappointment, but I must say I'm also impressed – not only is she a great sport, she's also incredibly articulate. I haven't edited the above at all, and the copywriter within me is mightily impressed...

As I said earlier, nothing ventured, nothing gained. At least I ventured, right?

In the interest of reciprocating good sportsmanship, I'm offering Miss Nurse and her prouder-than-ever boyfriend a complimentary dinner for two at Indioz, St Leonards  (a client of ours) on Albany St for their troubles. [Guys, just give Singh a call (9437 4888) and make a booking for a night of your choosing, I've filled him in]. As for paintball and Xbox duels... might have to take a raincheck.

So, is that it then?? It's funny you know, over the last few days I had at least half a dozen people say to me 'This is something you two will tell your grandkids'. It seemed a bit far fetched then but even now I guess it's still possible. Who knows?She can tell her grandkids and I'll tell mine....

If this was a Hugh Grant movie, I'd ask for my money back (although, come to think of it, I wouldn't have paid for a Hugh Grant movie in the first place, would I?). So I guess that's the end of this little chapter, but possibly not the whole story. It seems Chapter Two definitely won't involve the nurse though...

The wait is over... almost

Finally, the suspense is over. For me, at least – you'll have to wait another few hours.

Late last night, the object of all my recent shenanigans sent me an email. I intend to post it here shortly – with my response – but unfortunately I have a real job to do and real work to get done, and it's a little hard to make excuses when you have clients following your story...

Nothing ventured, nothing gained... right?

The following could be interpreted many ways. Let's hope it's taken in one of the good ones...
So, I haven't yet heard from the nurse I mentioned earlier. Was it because she lost the bit of paper I scrawled the blog address on (the only contact detail she had)? Was it because she looked and declined to respond? Or did she look and get a little nervous about the fact that there were apparently thousands of other eyes on her next move? Well, there's no point wondering when you can do this:
(see video below)

By the way, I have no idea if she's even single. For all I know, she may even be married (I don't suppose people wear rings in those sort of jobs). So this is all on the assumption that she's available, and, if not, I wish her and her partner all the best and apologise for the intrusion. That said, I can always rely on the guys at the office for a good laugh. They suggested that if she's taken, I challenge her partner to a duel. If I win, I take the girl; if I lose and get smashed, I'll be back in the emergency department with her anyway... essentially, I can't lose. So thanks @OtherMattWilson and @gadgetfarmer for your sound advice... I just don't think I'll be following it this time. I think you'll understand that's not exactly my style... although if this were a movie starring Hugh Grant, I think it'd do for a nice ending.

Finally, I can think of a few people who this may upset (and yes, I am single in case that made you wonder) but it's all a bit of fun. I am an idiot sometimes. Besides, the readers demanded it – I even had a senior Virgin staff member comment that she's now hooked and can't wait to see if I get the nurse. And I quote: 'This is worse than waiting for the next series of True Blood!  Did you see her?  Did she take the flowers? Did she hit you over the head with them?  Did she get her insanely jealous, meat-head of a boyfriend to come and remove your remaining testicle!!! [for the record, they're both still there – I've checked]...................the suspense is killing me...............' - Leonie Vandeven, Virgin PR

How could I not play this up??

Either way, here it is:

Me, you, and Virgin/Pacific Blue... I made it for the Big Day!

I'm back to a proper internet connection, so here's a compilation of Thursday's photos, tweets, and other narrative for those interested in the Big Day:

Tweet 1: Wheeling to boarding gate, got the most important thing sorted (below). Thx Belinda @virginblue @fly_pacificblue check in

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Yes, that's right, I picked up one of those crappy blue-vinyl-and-steel wheelchairs at the airport to save myself the agonising walk. As far as wheelchairs go, these things are equivalent of your uncle's beige 1970s Datsun wagon. 

The flight consisted of me sleeping like a drunk, punctuated by occasional announcements by one of the cabin crew who mixed in some stand-up comedy and beat-boxing. To me, Virgin always makes for an interesting study on staff culture, and probably even group psychology – when your staff are having fun, your customers probably are too. Except, of course, for the 'been kicked in the nethers by a racehorse' feeling which is underlying all my experiences at the moment. Still, they were fun and looked after me really well.

Wellington lived up to its reputation by threatening to spit us back into the Tasman as we tried to land, with winds gusting at up to 48 knots. Despite the ridiculously rocky approach, the captain managed to drop us on the deck so flat and arrow-straight that it was one of the best landings I've had in a long time. And we were 20 mins early. Not bad for a free flight, really.

With the wedding ceremony beginning as I cleared customs, the clock was ticking.

One of the Pacific Blue staff kindly wheeled me out to the nearest taxi as fast as she was able, and I briefed the driver.

Tweet: Just like the movies, wedding's about to start but I'm not there yet! Go, taxi, GO!

We quickly exited the airport and the taxi-driver took me straight to the nearest set of roadworks, where we came to a grinding halt. Not too long a wait, but then we came across this champion who, for some reason, thought that driving in front of us at 10km/h under the speed limit was going to get me to Josh's wedding on time. That's right AWH 371, I'm looking at you:

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Finally, we freed ourselves of the unwelcome escort and picked up the pace. Shortly afterwards, we arrived. I stepped into an adjoining room and changed into my suit as quickly as I was able (which was not very quickly at all, really).

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While contemplating whether or not to burst through the doors and scream 'I MADE IT!!!!' at the top of my lungs, I noticed that Josh and Kara were just starting their vows. Timing, eh?

Almost exactly 36 hours after I was rushed into emergency surgery, I have you guys (and, of course, Virgin Blue and Pacific Blue as a result) to thank for the fact that I was able to stand there and take this pic of the back of this man's head. (If you're wondering what the reflections are, it was taken through the glass rear door – didn't want to walk in during the prayer). I couldn't believe the timing, and the rush of the last day and a half hit me all at once. I very nearly shed a man-tear.

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Tweet: Hey everyone, look where I am! Thanks Virgin Blue and Pacific Blue!

My face and posture may give away my physical discomfort at posing for the photo, but you've no idea how happy I am to be here. Josh's face says it all, too, don't you think?

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Needless to say, he was both surprised and impressed to see me. I was going to ask him to write a guest post after the reception, but I think he and Kara may have had some sort of alternative plans... not sure what they might be – he didn't really elaborate – but I'm not really expecting twitpics.

Here's a couple of shots at the reception as the couple dance in to some Assyrian music courtesy of Josh's family. You'll recognise the back of that guy's head in the second photo – where does he keep popping up from? 

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The night was complete with fantastic food, beautiful bridesmaids and touching speeches (or was it beautiful speeches and touching bridesmaids? I can't remember...). The only thing that nearly marred it was when, for no apparent reason, a 100kg chandelier detached itself from the ceiling and crashed onto one of the tables where some guests were seated, narrowly missing a few heads. Very 'Phantom of the Opera' but, seriously, could have been really bad news. Plus, imagine the dilemma of trying to decide whether or not I should upload a twitpic of it. Geez, that would have been bad.

I retired early to my hotel to reapply my dressings, take some painkillers, and send a note of thanks to all you who helped me get here. I wouldn't volunteer for this kind of painful surgery (unless I could somehow guarantee being looked after by that nurse  – see previous post) but you've helped me make the best of a bad situation... Aw, thanks so much, guys. *sheds man-tear*.

P.S. Did you know that in a little over 24hrs, you guys helped me generate over 4500 site views? Incredible! Now, if you'll just turn your attention to convincing my nurse to date me (again, previous post) we could add another chapter to this little story. Go on... everyone loves a happy ending. :-)

Just one more thing...

So Virgin/Pacific Blue kindly sent through my itinerary just after close of business yesterday (for which I also need to thank @DaisySM/@editorialdesk from www.etravelblackboard for her involvement, you're amazing). Just one more hurdle to jump over, thankfully of the figurative type: a signed doctor's approval for travel.

Easy enough? Sure... until my treating doctor was unreachable and I was forced to revisit the emergency department of Royal North Shore after several hours of phone calls proved unfruitful.

It turned out to be not such a bad thing though, as the staff at RNS emergency were very friendly and helpful. Actually, more to the point: the nurse who looked after me there was absolutely gorgeous. And she's probably reading this too, because I gave her the address. So if you're the very cute brunette who took the following photo, then how about joining me for dinner some time?? It's that or I'll have to injure myself horrifically just to find an excuse to come back and see you in triage, and I'd much prefer to get to know you over pasta or something less painful. What do you say?? You can comment below or email me apwilson@me.com... (Oh, and if you read the first post then you know you needn't doubt my intentions).
So there you go people, I may have had groin surgery but it still seems I have balls, so to speak. A date with one of the nurses would round off this little story quite nicely, don't you think? I'll keep you posted...

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Holding my signed doctor's letter granting me permission to fly.

Time to run, boarding call – I'll post from NZ soon. Thanks for all your help in making this trip possible!

Virgin Blue/Pacific Blue Rock!

That's right tweeps, your efforts have all paid off! Virgin Blue/Pacific Blue have heard you loud and clear – you said I had to get to Josh's wedding in Wellington tomorrow, and they wholeheartedly agreed! Full points to them I say, so please make sure you're as generous in spreading the word of their kindness as you were in appealing for it! Tweet some love for @virginblue and @fly_pacificblue when you're done reading this as a show of appreciation.

Anyway, in a little over 5 hours there have been more than 1500 views on this blog... from an existing audience of zero. Tweetreach also tells me my tweet messages reached almost 66 000 people on Twitter (@OtherAndrew + @virginblue), which is absolutely incredible. You can check the comment on the previous post for more impressive stats. Suffice to say your passionate retweeting was as effective as it was touching, so thank you.

On a different note, I'm sure my little declaration that I'm still wearing my V-plates will inevitably lead to interesting discussions with some of you. But so you know, I do intend to honour my proposed sponsorship deal in this regard, so if any of you have figured out how to pronounce a capital letter – as in 'Virgin' and not 'virgin' – please DM me. (I think it may involve lifting your head up a little and stretching onto your tippy toes while raising your voice an octave, but I'm not really sure).

Seriously though, as a result of all your support, I'll be proudly strutting – or at least shuffling – into the church tomorrow to see Josh and Kara tie the knot. It'll mean a lot to me, and to them. I want to thank you guys, Virgin and Pacific Blue, and the residual effects of anaesthetic and a cocktail of other painkiller drugs for helping me pull this thing off.

I fully intend to Tweet at least once from the wedding, as it only seems appropriate... perhaps we'll crowdsource the answer to the question 'Does anyone have any reason why these two should not wed?' I'll blurt out the answers from my iPhone, and the one who gets the biggest laugh wins. Or not, I'll make decisions like that once the drugs have worn off I suppose.

Well, thanks once again Tweeps, I'm looking forward to getting up bright and early tomorrow for my Syd-Wellington flight thanks to all of you. Now, time for some dinner then bed!

Oh, and if you're not already, follow @virginblue for some great Twitter-only deals...

N.B. I should also point out that Virgin Blue stressed to me that they were responding to the extenuating circumstances of my situation, and no amount of retweeting, blogging, or similar would have convinced them if I'd merely slept in and missed my flight (and yes, I have done that once before). There are fare conditions for a reason. So basically, don't try to use this as a precedent unless you want to go the whole hog and get yourself a strangulated hernia the day before a mate's wedding. I don't really recommend it, but maybe you're into that sort of stuff.

Hey Virgin Blue/Pacific Blue! You know you want to help...

Tomorrow, one of my best mates gets married. In New Zealand. To a Kiwi. As if that's not bad enough, I'm supposed to be on a plane now but am sitting in Royal North Shore Hospital, having just awoken from emergency surgery. Turns out that the discomfort I had last night was a strangulated hernia. Apparently that's not a good thing, but I've never had so many people show so much interest in my groin before.
Now that I've woken up, it seems I've missed my flight, and – being the discounted ticket that it was – I know you don't normally replace them. But here's the thing: I can't afford to replace it either (something about a recent letter from the ATO), and was stretching it to buy the first ticket anyway. But Josh is my mate, and I'm sure there'll be some man-tears tomorrow if I don't show. The last thing anyone wants is for his mascara to run and ruin his dress.

So, what do you say? Any chance you want to hook me up with a replacement ticket tomorrow? There's plenty of social-media love in it for you (and we know how much the senior marketing guys love that stuff). And although I don't have as many followers as Ashton Kutcher, I'm pretty sure everyone thinks I'm just as awesome.

Plus – get ready for this – I can also offer you fantastic 'brand synergies' (management love that term). When I arrived with groin discomfort last night, the doctor asked me 'Have you had any unprotected sex recently?'. 'No,' I said, I haven't had any sex. I'm a virgin.' I'm not sure it's good bedside manner to laugh and blurt out 'REALLY??', but I guess I can't blame him. After all, I'm 27. (I should point out that it's because of a decision I made to wait until I get married rather than for lack of opportunity, but that's beside the point). The point is I can start adding a capital 'V' to my 'virgin' status so you guys get the publicity that goes along with it. Huh? Huh? Yeah, awesome idea I know. I'll have to figure out how to pronounce a capital letter, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it. Then who knows? Maybe Steve Carrell will want to make a prequel to one of his movies with me as the star.

So there you have it. You can alleviate a small amount of the suffering that Josh is going to experience by settling in to live in Wellington, by getting me on an earlybird flight there tomorrow. I'm pretty sure you won't have to make a special trip as you've probably got planes going there anyway. I'll just take one of the spare seats, preferably somewhere up the front. ;-)

You know you want to. All you have to do @reply me on Twitter (@OtherAndrew) or email me: apwilson@me.com. I'll love you for it, promise.

(P.S. My booking reference number is SCZTBZ)