So (please) indulge me for a moment while I share some of the events of my last few days in London that lead to the title and tale of this blog.
To kick things off!
On Wednesday, August 8th, Rose and I had tickets for the theatre (dahling!), to see The Mousetrap (which I've always wanted to see, being an Agatha Christie fan). As I don't often have occasion to dress up, Rose and I decided to get out the gladrags. As I was walking (sans heels, just flip-flops) to the theatre I pass a pub, where many a merry lad was enjoying a pint in the sunshine. Now as I approached said pub (The White Hart, I believe)one of these merry lads looked my direction. Being the polite person I am, I flashed a smile and continue walking. The lad in the trajectory of my path proceeded to go all wide-eyed and said, "You're lovely!" I (being the polite person I am) said "Thank you" and continued to walk past and on my merry way. However, as I continued to walk away, this lad continued to call after me, "You're lovely, you're absolutely lovely!!" He was so insistent that another elderly gentleman walking nearby, said "it seems you have an admirer."
Ok, so taken on it's own, this seems like no big deal. I was dressed up...he was probably a bit pissed...the weather was lovely...so all was right with his (and my) world and I became the receiver of this happy mood. However, the tale of my bizarrely active mojo doesn't end there!
The following Friday, August 10th, I had my leaving do on the Southbank. Lunch, followed by the Tate Modern, followed by drinks and finally dancing (all of which were lovely, by the way). So, the next instance of my overly active mojo did not happen that night, but rather at the arse crack of dawn the next morning. I had scheduled a pick-up for my one (very large) box to be shipped back to the States. I requested a pick-up before noon as I did not want to spend my glorious last Saturday, sitting in my empty room waiting for the pick-up man. At some point the previous evening, in my fuzzy state, I had received a text saying the pick up would be at 7:30am, ugh...I digress, or rather I'm setting the scene. So, sharply at 7:30am the pick-up man arrived. As I rushed around throwing last minute items in the box and taping it up, we joked about the insane amount of customs forms and paperwork required by the
Now before I continue with the "crazy mojo" tale, let me provide some photographic evidence of what I looked like that morning, proving that I was most definitely looking a bit worse for wear...nutso hair, smeary leftover makeup, etc. (and yes, I took a picture, right after the following events, specifically for this blog!!)
So, as I'm flopped on my naked bed (having just shipped the duvet) I got a text from a number not in my phonebook. Here's what it said -
"Sorry Heidi! That's off topic :-) but I've
never met a kind and nice American like
you :-) I wish we can meet when it's not
about the job...sorry for disturbing"
So, at first I was thinking, "Huh? Who is this?" (and why do they not have a mastery of the English language?) Then, as I scrolled back up to the previous evening's messages, it dawned on me... Yep!! The number matched the pick-up confirmation message I had received the night before! My pick-up man was trying to pick me up!!!! Being the polite person I am, I had a laugh and then thanked him for the compliment and let him know I was following the box home in a couple days, to which he replied -
"I should send myself there in another box.
Nice too meet you, real pleasure...
have a good one"
Whaaaaaaaat?! I spent all of 10 minutes with this pick-up man, and as you can see above it was not my finest hour in the looks department. Hmmm...
If these two incidents had been it, I would not be sitting here writing this tale...
On Sunday, August 12th, Rose treated me, as a going away present, to the Hyde Park Olympics Closing Ceremony Celebration Concert (Blur, woohoo!) As we were waiting for Blur to go on stage, a man with his adorable, loquacious, pink tutu clad daughter on his shoulders (yes, daughter!)went past looking for his wife (yes, wife!)and got stuck in the tight crowd surrounding us. As he looked around for his wife, he proceeded to tell me, I was gorgeous, repeatedly! It all got a bit embarrassing after that...
So, as I said above, I am not one of those girls who gets hit on, but something was sure kicking off those last few days in London. My friends Rose and Paul said it was because I was happy and content...and you know what, I think they might have been right... I just hope the next time my mojo goes crazy, there'll be someone I fancy in close proximity! ;-)
