Sign me up….

Last night i had a meeting with a  dude that wants me to write a ‘love/dating’ column’ for his newspaper. (I know how ‘Carrie Bradshaw’ of me.) I had to meet him at the World Ends pub incamden for a meeting. He was late….i hate ate people, yet don’t mind if i’m in a pub, so i had to do some sitting around. When i’m left waiting for someone, sitting around or outside even it’s always dodgey for me, as strangers like to come and have a chat. During the day, the chats are all dandy, however at night….they’re quite erm…’interesting.’

At first i was having to stand outside in my huge white fur. Even the homeless preson who told me to lie for him to a police man, thought i was a prositute. Anyway, I ventured inside was bomvared with what i like to call ‘user’males. If you’re a guy and you’re gonna do the old ‘fakey fakey, i’ve got this, i know this person, i’ve done this’ tlak on me…know that you will have to step up your game. I was raised in Hollywood. I can see through the fakery. We’re served it up on a daily with our morning coffee. Anyway i got bored of them, and found commone local football holligans, who looked like fun and kept stroking me, throwing me up into the air, telling me i was a ‘beauty’ and danding like Elvis Presley. My kinda people. Infactm it must have been Elvis night, as i remember ‘Blue Sueded shoes’ was one abput 40 times.

I then decide i need to leave the boys and grab a glass of vino…just one whilst i wait for the meeting to occur. I sit down, order my drink. (It’s all warm and cosy in there and filled to the brim with love and spirit!) Then a girl from the Czech Republic, sits down next to me. She has travelled all the way from Ruslip to simply come to a bar in Camden. Not only was she on her own, and had me thinking she was a lesbo…at first. But she was a Nanny, who was hunting down a man to marry her, simply because she had just had her heart broken. (People with broken hearts always find me, in bars.) Anyway we had wine, talked and she told me to find her a big black man with dread locks, who was built like a real man, and wanting to be swiped into being ‘husband.’ I actually loved her. Well i can’t deicide whether i just needed the company or whether i actually liked her a lot. lol. But i’d deffo do drinks with her again. ( i know have a baby crowd of 6 people standing around me watching me write this…i can’t do it. I feel under pressure.)

Anyway, my ‘meeting man’ came. he bought me and the nanny shots of tequila, then beers. What i loved about the Nanny was that she saw me as this girl from Yorkshire, just sat in a bar laughing, having fun, living life and giving her love advice…then the ‘meeting man’ comes and immediately says top the nanny, ‘Do you know who you’re talking to right now?’ (I always get nervous at these times. Like what are they going to say? Slag? Off the telly? Blogger? Nusiance? Ageing sex symbol? Dickhead?) Anyway, he classed me as an ‘A’ Lister! HAHAHA. Which i know i’m not but i sure as hell like the sound of it! And apparently, the Reality tv part of my life, makes me a D-lister. But my rather clever blog, makes me an ‘A’ lister. I’ll take that.

Anyway, we had a meeting. I left the nanny pissed up somewhere. I mean work comes first. He signed me up to the team. I have a new ‘Love/Dating in the city’column. I got rather excited. Got asked out by a 40 drunken strangers. Was offered £3000 for my hand in marriage. And then i fucked off home.

For the first time i actually loved being alone in my sheets. I needed the time. I’ve settled back into London now. I’m feeling wonderful. I’m excited. Loving life and full of the ‘oooh.’ (Oh and i’m currently sat next to criminals.)

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