The Gherkin, Serendipity and idle chat...

The Ritz

 ‘Hi! Want to do tea at the Ritz?’

‘Oh, you haven’t updated your blog!’ my twin duly notified like as though the former had anything to do with the latter. ‘pssshhhh!’

I was well aware of the fact darling; I had consistently sought out the right moment to fill my slowly emergent blogsphere on my pretty intense week. I hadn’t quite found it just yet.

I wish I could tell of how  I’d felt like a pretty girl in a white dress and blue satin sashes, how snowflakes had stayed on my nose and my eyelashes or how I’d had a rare, ethereal, natural moment of serendipity on Liverpool street… Oh wait! I did…

I felt like a ‘girl on the run’ as I mentally ducked and dived in avoidance of my mathematician train driver’s calls, why were some men so stubborn? ‘You are married’. ‘No I don’t want to go for a drink’. It almost felt like my resilient NO was an aphrodisiac to his plight! aarrrgghhh!. (Any ideas guys? Please!, short of begging him to leave me alone, my grand tricks are spent). He had called everyday last week, with each call I wished some more I’d seen his ring before I’d doled out my number… ridiculous! 

The rest of the week I’d felt like Angelina Jolie in ‘Girl Interrupted’, oscillating vigorously between ordering lush furnishings in radiant colours for my new apartment and a hectic work schedule. I was emotionally drained as even the smallest of tasks felt staggering. I did however manage to get forty-five minutes of Salsa in , a trip to the ‘Journey’, a trip to the doctors and an annoyingly childish argument with T.

I have a place, a place where I retreat into my own little world, a place where I am never sad or lonely and where I draw strength from, its not one place…  it’s the fantastic Jewish bookstore in Golders Green where you’d find literally any book in the world, it’s the Borders in Brent Cross and the ‘Borders’ on Finchley road, it’s the Library in Grays. Its anywhere where there are lots and lots of books, I get lost in the stories so deep that whatever is bothering me somewhat pales in comparison to the treasures they carry. This time, the Jewish bookstore in Golders Green served as my ‘anti-kryptonite’. I actually felt the stress dissipate through my pores as I got lost in buried nuggets of treasure. A few unplanned purchases, smiles and take-out Chinese later ensured I fell asleep that night with the singular thought. ‘The world truly is my oyster’.

Books...Lush! :)

‘Drinks at the Gherkin’ was the perfect end to my crazy week. I walked through the awesome glass building i worked in and headed to Paddington station. A thankful end to my work week. 

Approximately twenty minutes later, I did a swap for the Metropolitan line at Baker Street; he smiled at me as I sought out my platform, I smiled back. He looked good and well put together but he wasn’t really my type, we swapped pleasantries and numbers (Hey! I’m all about meeting people) and I went on my merry way. He did advise a random route, silly man, so we could talk some more. I politely declined and then smiled.

The Gherkin - 30 St Mary Axe

40/30 was everything I thought it would be; excellent conversation, a fantastically strong cheese board accompanied by alluring raw cuts with amazing textures, flavours and styles served as buffers to the cosmopolitan royales, bellinis and sauvignon blanc we so gladly absorbed. The view of the night sky through tinted glass windows was phenomenal.

the view from inside 

The Gherkin is a tremendously impressive building when viewed from pretty much anywhere in the city, however, upfront it confronts you and possibly almost intimidates you as it stands forty floors high. You won’t understand it till you stand on the fortieth floor and in turn confront the heavens as you look over London. I felt like if I reached out through the tinted glass shield, I’d be able to move the river Thames, Tower Bridge and the ‘House of Lords’ around to exactly where I thought they should be. The Gherkin presented London to me on a board. Oh! the sky line was gorgeously orgasmic.
 

A few hours later I said my good nights and hobbled along excitedly to the nearest station, I was floating on air once again. 

He walked past me with a strength and a presence so grand, words elude me. He carried an aura so sublime, his gaze held intense; I noticed his very short stare, his eyes beautifully searching. I walked on, but in seconds he had forced me to create a memory so powerfully passionate, I wondered why Leornado di Caprio had had to penetrate four layers of dreams in Inception to initiate a thought. His look was interesting but his carriage had me sold.

I turned around; I needed to see him one more time; he had turned back too. Talking on the backsides of Liverpool Street for a quarter of an hour felt like the most natural thing in the world to do. He engaged me in intelligent conversation with the sweetest of voices; as he entered his number into my blackberry, my lips spontaneously formed the words;

‘You’re not married or anything?’ He raised his left hand in reply to my question…no platinum, gold or silver band

… The moment indeed fun… realistically I feel very much like YN and know…as amazing as the moment was, all it will ever be is a moment… as long as its in my now…I almost thought maybe, it was, after all, so natural, so real ,not forced, my oxytocins went into overdrive but this is life, real life... these things don't happen!  the streets of London weren't going to regurgitate me a random stranger to fall exceptionally in love with, c'mon! ... right?

t-notes darling, I move next w/e… don’t expect an update lol…really want to do a video of my move, hehe that should be fun! :) on this note people, have a fantastic bank holiday (Damn! Germany is at work... no rest for the wicked)! In the interim I look forward to dinner at the Ritz with T...