May 11, 2006
It seems I now have not one but two admirers working at the local Starbucks. First there was Damon, whose codename (before we knew his real name) was Bob the Starbucks Hobbit. You can see photos of Damon on the Flickr getting his hair shaved by my, er, first male encounter and former school friend, Craig. Cosy.
Now, it seems a rather nice-looking girl (or woman – everyone under 40 is now a girl, okay!) is making an effort to say hello, bring me my paninni and clear tables nearby. She’s the slim blonde one who looks like someone off of on TV. Not completely stunning, but then look at me. She certainly has je ne sais quoi, seems pretty intelligent (which, frankly, Damon does not) and that all helps.
Hardcore readers of this blog should have twigged by now that I am perfectly happy shopping on both sides of the street. However, I am a fussy bastard which explains why I have hardly been with anyone since New Labour came to power (seems like yesterday, doesn’t it). Well, that and working like a whore.
But what if Damon gets wind of this? Mugs could start flying, steam could lash out of the expresso machine and it could all get very ugly indeed. Still, could be good to watch.
Lots more coffee to drink.