Court, balls, whatever

Right, it's Wednesday now and I really really really should give him call, as promised and that... er... makes me nervous!

Went for a couple of drinks on Monday, with K - mate from work. So I was sinking Pinot Grigio like others gulp Ribena after a spinning session, and (could someone confiscate my mobile phone when I'm drunk!?) left two texts and a phone call (around midnight, urgs). Right. No wonder I didn't get a reply that night (good boys sleep at that time anyway), and I'm not very surprised he didn't answer the next day - so. The ball is STILL in my court, and I'm having nervous breakdowns because I have to call, bollocks.

He's planned to go out in Brixton again, but I have to go and see my mate Liz - her birthday (oh sh... prezzie!?). Now.

Ask him to come withe me: he might say no (fair nuff, I would), or my mates don't like him (I very dare them), or we have a bloody good time.
Tell him I'd pop down later to see him - means leaving my mate at her birthday bash. French au revoir, nah...
Tell him I can't do Friday and try Saturday. Just like last week. That's tempting fate...

I'm in trouble. Again...