Friday is National Kissing Day!! How funny that when I tweeted it a week early I had more retweets than plain English training and poetry workshops put together! What a great excuse to grab a stranger on the bus, in the next office, in a bar in Liverpool Street – wherever you are!
I wanted to kiss someone on Tuesday! An amazing thing happened. After two glasses of red wine and a white Russian, I had left my favourite enormous multi-coloured sturdy, stripy, perfect umbrella on the floor in the wine bar in Dean Street. I wasn’t drunk, of course. I’d eaten a platter of crispy fried salmon and prawns so quickly that I burnt my mouth.
Ayway, Dr Patrick kindly offered to be my shining-armoured knight. He went all the way to Soho on Monday and texted me to confirm he’d retrieved it. I was so smiley knowing my beloved brolly was coming home. Then he arrived – empty handed. He’d left it by a bench at Tottenham Court Road. I would expect this from certain (nameless) people, but not the cleverest student in Mexico who qualified as a neurologist at just 21. But now for the amazing thing… he went back to Tottenham Court Road on Tuesday – and there it was!! Not stolen. Not vandalised. Just happily waiting to be brought back to me. Human nature… faith… restored.
You’re probably thinking this is a really boring blog week. I’m sorry about that. I’ve been in trouble lately for posting stories that are apparently too close to the mark and a bit unsuitable for a woman on the wrong side of 32. But what can I do? For instance, I’m often asked quite innocently what goes on in the oxygen chamber. Well, apart from breathing pure oxygen, obviously, and Dieneke generously sharing her Saturday Guardian, much of the conversation revolves around John’s belief that I am a porn queen. (Long story, I’m really not.) If I talk about playing games I get questioned about Naked Scrabble Buddy – yes he is a real person, as is Deedub – a living, breathing boy (in red Italian shorts). So you see, whatever I tell you, it doesn’t reflect awfully well on someone who runs corporate training sessions and writes industry blogs for small businesses.
By the way, I will be in a bar in Liverpool Street on Thursday, so if you want to claim your kiss a day early you’ll find me by the free sausages. And if it gets late: ‘Kiss me beneath the milky twilight, lead me out on the moonlit floor. Lift your open hand, strike up the band and make the fireflies dance…’ And if you can’t find me there, follow me here: @weekendwitch