Seizing the day - all the cool kids are doing it.

You know yesterday? Yes? When I said I was going swimming after work? Can you guess what I'm about to tell you?

I should explain something really.. I'm sure that I am not alone in possessing two sides to myself. One side could, I suppose, be described as my 'conscience'. This is a part of me that is all pretty and nice, and dressed in tumbling linen gowns adorned with daisy chains. It floats around my brain saying things like 'do exercise, it's good for you and you'll feel so much better in yourself, especially if you get an early night as well' and then hums a pretty tune and skips away lovingly. Unfortunately the other side of me isn't quite so friendly. This part dresses in skin-tight leather, wears big, fat steel capped boots and carries a rather intimidating-looking whip. This is a part that goes around saying (in thunderous tones) "Don't be so fucking BORING! Drink some beer! Listen to music! Getting drunk and fat is the ONLY WAY FORWWRD. And you? Totally know it." And, as you may be able to work out, the latter part can TOTALLY kick the former's namby-pamby ass.

In short, my friends, I did not go swimming. No. My swimming costume and towel are tucked neatly and drily under my desk, where they will no doubt fester unnoticed forever. I went to a VERY cool gig at the Mean Fiddler with my VERY cool friend Steve and his mate Tom. To see this band. Yes, a ten piece Nordic band. They were fantastic and surprisingly hairy.

I drank the beer and ate the food and generally had a lovely time. Then stayed at Steve's so I am wearing the same clothes as I wore yesterday. Honestly. Sheer unadulterated CLASS.

Something funny happened to me on the way to this gig last night though. I was in Tesco's, just minding my own business at the checkout, when I kind of noticed the man at the till next to me looking at me. I left the shop and had started towards Picadilly Circus, when I noticed the same man walking about two steps behind me. He sped up and stopped me and we had the following interchange:

Him: Hi. This is strange I know but.. well.. are you doing anything tonight?
Me: Um.. hi. Well yes I am actually I'm going to meet a friend.
Him: Oh. Ok. Well could I take you out some other night then?
Me: Er.. no, thank you for asking though, I think.. well.. no. Thanks.
Him: Oh. Alright then. Bye then.
Me: Bye!

Now. This all looks quite sweet doesn't it? A stranger bravely asking out a girl he sees in the street on a whim? Yes, I agree. And when I read that little bit of dialogue I think, actually, that's quite charming really.

BUT. The thing was this. He had obviously been a bit peckish, so had popped into Tesco to get something to eat. And he had selected as his snack of choice, a great big pie. So as he was asking me out in this rather endearing fashion, he quite literally was doing it through a face full of meat pie.

I beg you. Tell me. WHY? Why pie? I mean, any chance he had with me just disappeared in a little puff pastry puff when I saw the, well, just the pie-y-ness of the whole situation. Strange.

So. The fun doesn't stop at last night. Tonight I'm going to see Beck in concert in Hammersmith with Chris. Much more of the fun-ness. I do like the fun-ness even though I know it's not a word really. I could probably deal with marginally less of the pie-y-ness though.

Aside from that it WAS nice to be asked out in that manner. Even if it is through a mouthful of re-constituted beef.