There I was standing in the queue at the little W H Smith's at Waterloo Station minding my own business . Now if we all remember last time I was there (just before Thailand) the man at the counter shocked and surprised me by addressing me by name. Today he spotted me coming and reacted as you would to seeing a long lost friend. He was so excited to see me, asking how I was, whether I was busy and whether I'd be watching the football (not a long lost friend then!). How does he know me? I could understand him being friendly, but knowing my name.... weird!
The Delice De France person is different, he now knows me so well that he has my order ready (a pain au chocolat) and keyed into the checkout before I even reach Waterloo. Mmmm... pain au chocolat.
Last night I went out in Covent Garden to the White Lion, some place with Porter in the name and the Walkabout (classy huh?) with Sam America, Tamara Canada, JP and SA's new beau Gary and his mate Christopher. Was a laugh... but I grew too hungry and left and attacked a defenseless Favorite Chicken fast food shop... They never saw it coming...
Tonight I'm off to Wimbledon to watch the office team race Dragon boats... this will bring me much amusement...
I've pulled Australia out of the hat for my offices World Cup sweapstake. That is my one and only contribution to "World Cup fever"
any hot guys whilst u commute?
ReplyDeleteThere used to be one, he lives at the bottom of my street... slim with messy hair. Sweet. But now it's just briefcase carrying Guardian reader, Pipe Smoking Man and Man With A Limp to keep me company.
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