Why the hell is Susan making me read this boring book? Hardly bloody started the damn thing. Maybe I’ll just get a summary off the internet. Save me some time. Only at Gloucester Road – why is it so yellow? Wait a minute, who’s this? Hello! Hot chick at three o’ clock and look what she’s reading. Got to be worth a try.
Ok, just hold the book out in front of you and look interested. Oh shit, the ring! That’ll give the game away. Just slip it in your pocket and start again. Okay, lady, stop reading and look up. Look up... now! Nope, still reading. Come on, I haven’t got all day. We’re at Hyde Park Cor- she’s seen you! Do the smile. Wave the book. Hah! It’s working. We have contact.
Okay, play it cool. Need to talk to her but got some fat, sweaty American in my face. Ah, Covent Garden – all the Yanks are getting off. Here we go, I’m moving in. Right, act nervous, quick shy smile; she’s interested. Say something about the book. What did Susan call it? Erotic? No, evocative, that was it. Not sure what it means but she’s nodding like that insurance dog off the adverts.
Running out of stations – where are we? Ah, crap, Arnos Bloody Grove! It’ll take ages to get back to Susan’s now, and we’re doing that sodding guest list. Can’t leave this now I’ve put in the groundwork though.
Start building up to it now. Fumble your words a bit. Hesitate. Smile. Scratch your head like an idiot. Then blurt it out – can I call you sometime? She hesitates; I’ve blown it. But no, she’s looking for a pen! She hands the number to me just as we get out at Cockfosters. Cockfosters! Sounds like my battle cry of triumph.
Right, now got to get rid of her quick so I can get back to Susan.