Stanford's in Covent Garden is a splendid shop selling travel books and that. I went rigid with delight when I went in and forgot why I was there for a second, so distracted was I by wrapping paper, Moleskine notebooks, globes of all sizes and small haversacks. Anyway, I then remembered why I was there, and approached a man in a Stanford's T-shirt.
Me: Hello. Where is Canada?
Man: Just north of America.
Me (Shrieking with glee): How many times have you made that joke?
Man: Fifty times a day. It's good though isn't it.
Me: Oh yes. Very.
Anyway, I got my guide book(s) and wandered down the road to buy cheese. I can't eat much cheese, what with being a lardy larder, so if I have it I have a tiny bit, and it MUST be delicious. So I went to Neal's Yard Dairy, which sells cheese, some more cheese, and a bit of cheese, a couple of of oatcakes, two loaves of bread, and 3m types of cheese.
Peeping out from behind a wheel of Stilton the size of the Moon was a tiny, very beautiful, Asian-American man in a blue hat.
Me: Hello.
Man: Hello to you too. Do you need some help?
Me (Eyes like saucers, dribbling a bit): Oh yes PLEASE.
Man: If it's cheese you're after, you're outta luck.
I love him a bit.
Friday, October 27, 2006
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11 comments:
and you're not married yet?
I htink he loves you too. ;)
Steve~
Now I want some cheese. Just a little edam left in the fridge. Mmmm.
I LOVE Neal's Yard Dairy! I had a romantic tryst there once.
No. Really!
J x
I go there once a week & all I get is cheese: What am I doing wrong?
J - GO ON, SPILL.
Mikey - you are not me. I attract this kind of thing the whole time, in the same way that I am ALWAYS asked for directions, asked to buy a copy of the Big Issue, asked if I have a minute to answer a questionnaire even if I am scowling and on the phone, and asked if I want to go to a research group.
Novak - here's hoping.
Mist1 - Edam no good. You need Proper Cheese. The cheese I bought is so strong it is wafting out of the (closed) fridge door.
Lucretia - No, I am not. Hey ho.
Slightly off-topic, but I once read on your blog that you had a very handy handyman in the Brixton area, and I was wondering if you could let me know his details. I have a v.v. big wardrobe in bits which I thought I could put together on my own and now it appears I can not. So I need to pay someone to do it for me.
Thanks
Al
Al. You need 0800-Handyman. They are Sensational.
Only weird people can put together flat pack furniture without crying or needing help.
Yours ever
NWM
Not entirely true: I am phenomenally good at putting flat-pack-crap together and I am not a bit weird. In fact I'm the dullest person I know..
I am Asian American. And now I'm wondering what happens when an Asian has a child with a UK-er. What's that called then please?
Mikey - you should meet Clare. And TwatBoy upstairs. He still seems to be constructing the same wardrobe from IKEA three weeks later.
Lee: dunno. By its name? I didn't know how else to describe him; 'tiny Keanu Reeves' did cross my mind, but he was more beautiful than that. Is that not policitally correct?
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