Tuesday, 16 July 2013

The Stranger on a Train, Oysters and Champagne

'Kay yah, I am sharing this story although (because?) it is very indiscreet of me! ROFLOL! But mainly cuz some of you kittens need to hear this - like you, sheablue. Some of you are going around, going, "I am so fat/thin/my legs are not good/my boobs are too small/big/shaped like aubergines". Well, let me tell you aubergines are damn sexy and can fit very nicely in the right kind of hand. You cubs can go and play, cuz I am sure you do not need your self confidence boosted. Wha-at? What is that? You also think you are too fat/thin/your arms are not muscley enough/whatever? Sheesh! OK, you can come and hear the story too but you must sit quietly and not push each other in that way that boyz do. 

So-o-o I went on the train to London (going to a conference). I nearly didn't go cuz there was all that hoo-ha with the littlest kitten (sniff - no shut up, it is just something in my eye), but in the end my friend I was staying with said, You must! and even the Baron said I should go. (He said he would do anything to help me, which turned out to mean coming home and switching on his computer while I cooked, washed up, laid out Piglet's clothes for two days etc etc.) 

What you must remember as you read this story is that not very long ago, I thought I was a boring unattractive person whose flirting days were done with. How I discovered I wasn't is another story and I will tell it to you another time. If you sit quietly at the back there, cubs! 

So-o-o I was going off to London and intending to stay with my lovely friend - the former boyfriend of my Best Friend. (My Best Friend lives in Valencia nowadays, dahllnks, every couple of years I get a phone call and a voice as sultry as mine goes: "Da-a-a-arling!" and I am laughing cuz it is him.) Gah! how times change. I remember a horrid time my Best Friend heard of a dreadful bereavement, he was giving a concert and had to go straight to his family home after the concert. His boyfriend could not give him a hug even, cuz at that time two men hugging in public was like, No Way. I had to hug him extra for his boyfriend's sake. And now the former boyfriend is like married to his new husband! How cool is that. I am so happy I have lived to see the day

Ooops, I am digressing! What it is, my lovely friend's husband was going to make curry. I said I will bring beer and to my surprise and pleasure, they go, "We recently got into ale, bring some ale." So I am thinking, where will I get ale in central London? I am not going to carry a lot of bottles clanking and clinking on the train, am I. I am not a clanky clinky lady. Pearls make very little noise, y'know - especially if you are wearing them with cashmere (wink). 

There I am, about to get on the train and you can tell I was in a reckless mood, what with the kitten and some Stepford-y thngs I will not bore you with. And the bloody train was cancelled. Then I think I will go down to the station café for an indifferent latte, instead of hanging about on the noisy platform drinking one that is so bitter it is snarling at you: Effing middle class poser, how dare you ask for some Italian nonsense instead of something made with granules. Cuz I tell you, there is serious class politics going on in the coffee on the station platform where I live. 

Pic from BrendanJack.com

I think, It is no use going to Fortnums these days. The place is gone to the tourists; last time I was there I paid God knows how much for licorice allsorts to post to my Best Friend in Valencia cuz he cannot get them in Spain. Then I think, I know, I will go to Selfridges. The Food Hall (if they still have it) is bound to have decent ale in the wine section. And so it proved, when I eventually got there. But when I am thinking of going to Selfridges' Food Hall to buy beer (ROFLMAO! it is the last place anyone would ordinarily think of to buy beer! they wrapped every bottle individually and very beautifully in patterned yellow and white tissue paper,my dears!), anyway; given that I am going there, I think, Ooh, let me go to the champagne and oyster bar for lunch since I am in the vicinity. That was a sensible idea, no? 

The ca was crowded and really there was only one free place - at a table where a man was already sitting. So I ask if I can sit there and he says Yes. And he says it in an accent that I am already predisposed towards. (Never mind what accent that is, and you, cub nearest the door, I saw that smirky face.) He is sitting there with a big bag and a rucksack and I can tell he is up for chatting. 
We sit there chatting and I am knitting a sock. Yup, he is on his way back home somewhere halfway round the world after an extended holiday, and I am in a reckless mood. So later when we get on the train together and he says, "What do you do?", I say, "Oh, I do some academic teaching and I write erotica." 

Well, my dears, he was already quite excited and at this he gets even more agitato. Gradually he starts telling me all sorts of things about his life, cuz why wouldn't he, we are total strangers, and he admits to admiring my tits. I did lose a bit of weight recently, which is a great nuisance as now some of my favourite clothes don't quite fit. This includes the dress I was wearing that day. It had become somewhat loose in the bosom and I say, "Yah, not bad, are they. I always make sure I get a good bra to support them," and I see him get an eyeful of a bit of the good bra which is visible cuz the dress is loose (wink). 

Well, we are chatting and whatever, I don't care whatall I tell him cuz he is a total stranger. I tell him about how I sometimes say on the naughty writers' board I go on: "Dahinks, I am so lazy these days that I rarely get into bed for anything less than a bottle of Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque and some diamonds," and he gets a bit excited at the mention of the Belle Epoque and a bit deflated when I toss in the diamonds <snerk>. 

By the time we get to London we are going great guns and he says, "Can I buy you lunch, please let me buy you lunch." I say firmly, "No darling, cuz I am going to have oysters and champagne for lunch." Then he says, "I will buy you oysters and champagne, please please." And I say, "No! darling, cuz you have to find a hotel and you will hold me up. I only have a couple of hours to neck down these oysters before legging it off to see my lovely friend." But he says, "Please please. I will put my bags in the first hotel I see, I don't care what it costs. It's only one night. Please let me buy you oysters and champagne." 

Well! by then I am laughing too much to say No any more! How romantic and ridiculous - it's irresistible. I say, "Oh, OK then. Come along," and I ask the ticket collector and he directs us to some hotels, eventually we find one and throw my new friend's bags in and set off. He says, "Are we going to get a train now?" and I am like, "No, darling, cuz I am running late now, we will be getting a taxi," and I hail one down. He has never been in a black cab - although he has been to London before, so that was an extra treat for him. I did try quite hard to pay for it,my dears - threatening to burn my bra on the pavement outside Selfridges, but he sneaked the money in while I was getting out of the cab. And it was a new bra, with matching panties, and very chic, so I am afraid I skipped on the burning of it (wink). 

Selfridges Oyster Bar as depicted on Yelp.
A hooker of a different kind.
From Views from the Lifeboat
(Irish diasporic satire.) 
We go through the make-up girls and I am very delighted to see that the Food Hall is still there and looking proper, not touristy, and the champagne and oyster bar is there too. We sit on the silver bar stools and the posh lady next to me says, "The oysters from Ireland are delicious!" I am kinda pleased she is willing to talk to me, cuz there have been times, dahlinks, when I have been mistaken for a woman who is getting more than her lunch paid for - a couple of times while out with my own dad, yuckity yuck. (Not that I am that good looking of course. As I tell them on the board, I am an ex-rugby player with mommy fat (wink). A hooker of rather a different kind <snerk>.) 

My new friend says, "Shall we have a bottle of champagne?" I see his eyes pop as he looks down the list and sees what that would cost him! I am laughing and I say: "No darling, it is lunchtime. We will just have a glass - you may have a beer if you prefer." He says he will have champagne too, although he would rather have something other than oysters. We get me three Irish oysters and him some smoked salmon with soda bread - delish. He likes the soda bread v. much, sweet things. (I think he liked the smoked salmon too.) 

He takes a couple of meditative sips of the Laurent Perrier Brut which I have decided we will be having. Then he says, can he have a tissue? Well they only have some sort of industrial paper behind the bar but being a MILF, I of course have a tissue in my handbag and then he confesses that it's for his chewing gum which he still has in his mouth! Gosh, I am laughing so hard by then I nearly roll off my bar stool! I have no idea what that champagne tasted like to him, cuz although wine is supposed to go with food, I do not think champagne is supposed to go with chewing gum. Good job I had a tissue and he didn't have to stick the wad of gum under his silver bar stool! 

Gosh, those oysters were just lovely. I like to have mine with the lemon of course, and a bit of the chopped shallots in vinegar they put out for you. They were so cool and juicy and sweet with the tang of lemon, vinegar and shallots. And we were chatting and drinking our champagne, it was such fun. 

And my friend was very kind to treat me to them in such a romantic way. 

So what I want to say to you, gurrlz and boyz, is this. It is not about if you are too fat/too thin/your boobs are shaped like watermelons. Cuz if you are a saucy madam who does not care that her boobs are like two peas in a very small pod, you can do all manner of charming things with them that will attract the kindness of strangers. Remember that I thought I was a boring unattractive old hag, and naturally at that time nobody offered to buy me champagne and oysters. Nowadays I am just tootling along, singling my little song, and it is amazing the offers I get. Cuz once I hit 50, I was like, Hey, I am the big five oh! I don't have to care. I have grown old and I can be disgraceful! I guess it is evident that I am up for some fun, and you can join in if you wish to, and my new friend did wish to. I don't know which of us had the most fun. I am just going to say Thank you so very much for a lovely lunch, my dear! You are a sweetie of the first order and I hope you find a casual ladyfriend who appreciates your fun-loving heart.  

And other body parts, too (wink). 
Bottles of PJ can be also bought
in Greater Inverness.

When he said, "Don't go and see your friends, come with me,"  I said to him: "No, darling. Cuz men come and go, but friends are for life."  Maybe you are thinking, I was a bit mean to scoff my new friend's offered lunch and not go back with him. He did say he would buy me a bottle of Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque to take back to his hotel. But y'know, he had already admitted to me earlier that he didn't really want me to say Yes. Cuz sometimes a romantic dream can keep you going forever, you do not wish to risk the dream you can treasure in your heart for the sake of half an hour's sweaty reality. You only live twice, dahlinks: once in your dreams. 

1 comment:

  1. Fantastic post, I loved it. Brightened up a dreary wet afternoon no end, thank you! xx