Travelling home on the tube, a bit tipsy, after another losing night at poker (on a very bad losing streak, but tonight was low stakes so it only cost me £12) I became aware of two young women in the next carriage trying to attract someone's attention in ours through the interconnecting window. I was reading a grubby copy of the Times that I'd found on the seat next to me and tried to ignore the antics of this ladies, as I was sure they were probably gesticulating at the men next to me, who I figured were with them but had jumped on a different carriage in their haste to get on.
I kept glancing up though because the girls were pulling funny faces and it was making me laugh. And it seemed that when I looked up they would get extra agitated. Could they be gesticulating at me?
It's possible. I am a very attractive man and it is not unknown for women to lose all control at the sight of me, especially when I am drunk and reading a grubby paper.
Well it is unknown, but there is always a first time. Two women, both desperate to be with me. My three in a bed lezzing up fantasies might finally be coming true. I decided to play it cool, my alcohol tainted brain feeling that it was more likely that the display was not for me and that if I barged over and started talking about lezzing up it might be a little embarrassing, the police may become involved.
Finally the other men got off the train, but the girls stayed on and I was the only possible candidate for their lesbian display. They gestured me over to the window and I staggered over. It turned out that they had recognised me from off of the telly of the past and wanted my photograph. This doesn't happen too often these days (most people preferring to email me for my autograph) and so it's usually quite a pleasurable experience. I don't think I would like to be properly famous, but when you're travelling home on a tube a bit drunk and depressed about losing at poker and some pretty young women are suddenly happy to see you then it's quite a nice thing to happen. And when you have the safety of being divided by the doors at the end of a tube carriage you are also safe from attack. We pulled down our windows and tried to shout over the noise of the train. They took, what I imagine will look like quite strange photos and told me that they were in a band and had just been doing a gig. The rest of the band were standing behind them, also smiling, but looking at me as if to say, "if any lezzing up is going on tonight, then it will be us not you that will be watching it".
I am afraid to say that I have forgotten what the band was called, but it was quite a good name. I hadn't heard of them before, but then I hadn't heard of Chris Martin when I first met him and then the second time I met him I said , "You know I saw your record for sale in Australia. You must be doing really well," still not really appreciating the success of the popular beat combo Coldplay at that stage. I understand they are still doing OK.
Anyway, having a brief breathless (due to the wind from the tube) conversation with this happy youngsters made me feel happy too. Probably happier than if they had been strangers who fancied me and wanted to perform lewd sexual acts on me and each other. Almost certainly. Yes.
They headed off into the Notting Hill night and I headed home for a three in a bed with me and two pieces of fried chicken. I ate the chicken though. I didn't have sex with it, or watch as I made the two pieces of dead bird have sex with each other shouting "Go on, go on, you filthy carcassy whores" and anyone who says I did is lying.
