Love: Part I

I wanted to talk briefly about my offstage experiences on this London trip. There was a Scottish man that I ran into (or rather, he ran into me) at the hotel I was staying at, a super conveniently located Euston Square place. I felt very smart indeed heading out into the London night with my brand new winter coat, black boots and natty little umbrella. I was very innocently minding my own business in the lobby, “when what to my wondering (wandering?) eye should appear but a randy Scotsman, who was carrying beer.”

I’d come down to the lobby in a futile attempt to finish my applications for Indiana University (I’m taking a trip to the US in March, the time here overseas is slipping through my fingers, more on this later.) He had overheard me asking about my issues with the hotel Wifi and had seen his window apparently to come and talk to me as he used to be in IT, but had experienced a massive career re-direction and had been accepted to the Metropolitan Police Force, which was why he was in London. Like most Englishmen, Scotsmen, or Irishmen, he insisted on buying me a drink as he said I had to catch up to him in alcohol units. He – his name was Mark – proceeded to tell me his life story, which wasn’t half bad. His father was a GP in a small backwater Scottish town, and his mother was a housewife. His dad was Indian and his mother Scottish. He shared details of what he’d put his parents through growing up (a hellraiser.) He was not in the market for a girlfriend which was a relief in some ways and a worry in another, because he was trying to pick me up instead. But once he realized that  it wasn’t going to happen, he relaxed a little and we had an amazing time. He ordered in Tandoori chicken pizza in and we stood outside for a bit in the cold London night just talking.

Then two women from Leeds turned up from a night out at a cook off (apparently) determined to join us. By this time it was around 2am. I’d never met cook-off participants before and I’m unlikely to again so there’s a first time for everything. They asked how a Kiwi and Scot had met in this crazy world. Then they realized we weren’t together and started making all sorts of jibes about how I was out of Mark’s league. He said “I know, but I figure I’ve got about a 20% chance!” This guy was a crazy mix of misplaced confidence and self-deprecation.

The women joked around whether Mark was going to kiss me or not! It was all very stupid but a great release for me after so much seriousness over the last couple months. It felt great to be at ease talking and laughing with Mark. Unfortunately, transitory things must come to an end. The ladies said their goodnights and so did I. Mark flung one more arrow in my general vicinity, asking if I’d be at breakfast tomorrow. By this time it was already tomorrow, and I couldn’t think any further ahead than my comfortable bed, so I said no.