It was a chilly Sunday afternoon. After what was not an easy struggle, I had succeeded in tearing myself off my bed, heading into the cold streets to do some mandatory shopping. (Yes, there is such a thing as mandatory shopping *rme*). The plan was to quickly dash to Oxford Street, comb some shops, buy what needed to be bought and retire to the warmth of my room. So here I am, rushing along like the girl on a mission that I was, and then I see him.
Slim-ish, tall-ish, with a lovely head of dark, bouncy hair cascading to sweater-clad shoulders. His reflective aviators do so much to add some oomph, and his beard just crowns the look. This is my love, and he looks a whole lot like pictorial depictions of my Lord.
Even better than his looks (if there was such a thing), is his voice.
He’s strumming on a guitar and accompanied by two band members, he is performing I Want To Break Free by Queen. He couldn’t have chosen a better song. The lyrics are speaking my emotions: God knows, God knows I’m falling in love…’
My mission to get off the cold streets is temporarily forgotten as I find a nice spot in front of the small crowd that has formed, to soak in all of him, and record a video too which I’ve graciously posted below so you can see the object of my affection in full glory. The song comes to an end, and he seemingly knows I haven’t had enough, as the band almost immediately begins to perform UB 40’s Red Red Wine. For the next 5 minutes I’m rooted to a spot, enjoying every moment of the show. Time stands still and it doesn’t matter that I have things to do. I suspect it was in this moment when I forgot to close my handbag that someone picked my international passport which I discovered was missing days later, but that’s a story for another day.
Soon enough, it’s all over, and after dropping some generous change to support my love, I’m back to reality and on my way to mind my business. I shared my love story with a friend and he asked me ‘Which train is he sleeping on? We sent you to learn how to trade, you are chasing a glorified beggar’. That was hilarious. All I know is one day he’d be making history and paying our bills with his guitar a la Plain White T’s in Hey There Delilah. I can just see us on TV granting interviews and regaling our fans with our fairy tale.
After all was said and done, I guess Cupid’s strike was just not strong enough to propel me to ask for his name and number, and so I walked away. So much for love! All this talk about love at first sight, in my opinion, is just not real. I may be wrong, but the entire concept sounds unlikely – impossible even. How exactly does it work? How do you decide that you’re in love in minutes? Just how?
Maybe it really does exist, and my cynicism will just not let me be a believer. Have you fallen in love at first sight? Pray, tell 🙂