So yesterday a friend buzzed me for an impromptu brunch in South Kensington. Still in bed I threw on one of my Africa t shirts, leggings and glittery uggs and ran to meet her. Good times. Afterwards I figured that I’d walk to Waterstones Piccadilly and work on a project. This means research but normally ends with me purchasing 10 romance novels for tube travelling. I know my precious, I find it hard to focus sometimes.
But this day I was good. I went to the business section and did my work. I only checked Facebook 3 times! I was winning. Then I decided to pop into the self help section because, you never know, right?
As I approach I spot a dude who seems interested in my chest. One forgets the perils of t shirts with slogans and pictures. He smiles, I do the dismissive short, can’t you see I’m busy smile then go over to the relationship section. Apparently my smile wasn’t dismissive enough because he then decides to talk to me.
Him: I like your t shirt
Him: Shaka Zulu. You know they use some of his military tactics at Sandhurst
Me: Oh right
Him: Yeah, they’re always copying us. Copying stealing.
Me: Uhuh [Grab a book and read the blurb]
Apparently this was enough to warrant us getting to know each other further. He continued to stare at my cheat and I continued to pretend not to notice.
Him: So what’s your name?
Him: Chelsea. Hi, I’m XXXX
Me: Hi XXXX [Put book back and pick up another]
Him: So what star sign are you?
Him: Yeah, go on. Tell me!
Him: That means you like……..to travel?
Him: Yeah, you do
Me: No I really don’t
Him: But you do travel. A lot right
Him: [Disappointed] Oh. You look like you would
Me: Ok I’ve got to go
Him: Oh! Ok bye. Stay strong
I guess the moral of this story is that nowhere is sacred. Not HMV or any bookshop or sex shop. Sigh. But guys I know it’s hard talking to strangers but, you have to think what you’re going to reach for if your question is a bit of a dud. I’d suggest steering clear of star signs
© Chelsea Black