A Nottingham Interlude

I pull on my new rocks, well worn, heavy but comfy, not the boots, but the chunky shoes - and off I go. Striding across the bridge in town, I look down at the Trent, the water level is high and a murky brown colour, which sort of compliments the pallid grey luminousness of the sky.

The train is late, as seems to be the habit in my rural little town, I breathe in the cold morning air and cough a little as it courses through my lungs. It doesn't take much to make me want to reach in my pocket and fire up my ipod, escape a little from the miserable day surrounding me. Then I'm interrupted, a middle age man literally inches from my face looks down at me smiling.

'I could do with one of them' he exclaims, grinning at me whilst pointing to the ipod.

I nod and smile, not really wanting to encourage the conversation but to no avail, he wants to chat regardless.

'They're handy things' I reply, a polite but slightly uncomfortable smile on my face, the proximity of his face to mine making me feel a little unnerved.

'I'm homeless you know, and one of those would help when I am wondering around' he enthuses.

Again I nod, and think this is ironic as I am catching a train to Nottingham to have talks about a homeless project, but that's enough about talking shop already in this blog.

He cuts in on my brief thoughts with 'Are you rich, you look rich?'

'Nope, sadly not, I wish I was.' I reply with semi genuine jest. The guy wants a friendly face, a smile, a few words, and why not? All too often we hide behind headphones these days, however my training dictates a cut off point, and I raise my headphones and keep smiling.

'I'm gonna have a sherry' he remarks, before ambling off with his bag along the platform. Not a bad idea on a cold day, I grin as the Cocteau twins phase in on the ipod.

The train trundles in and off down the Trent valley, to Nottingham I go.

Twenty minutes later I'm there. I dodge the cold and decide to walk through the Broadmarsh shopping centre, the bus station part is very brightly lit and white, like some austere giant bathroom that just happens to contain buses. It doesn't take long before I'm distracted by the opposite sex, a small but curvy brunette catches my eye, long hair, specs, geeky and cute. We exchange slight smiles as we pass - I love Nottingham I think to myself, a city that is rumoured to have twice as many females as the male populace.

It seems quiet today, neon framed shops seem empty but like any city, there's always a vibe of sorts, you just need to extend the senses and try and tap into it.

Suddenly, she's there...

REWIND...

It's at this point of the blog I need to give you a little back story, as we step two months or so into the past. There I was near the Broadmarsh centre heading to slab square in a world of my own when I spied an elfin princess, dark hair slightly tousled and flowing in the winter breeze. She walked so lightly she seemed to float, she had the looks of some Greek goddess and a carefree smile adorned her face. She was a sort of trendy hippy chick, a little avant-garde but fashionable too. My eyes follow her every movement, I drink in her beauty, she passes and I sigh. As I walk on I turn around for one last look and think to myself I'll never see her again.

FAST FORWARD...

Today as I decide to kill some time before my meeting in Waterstones books - she appears like a mirage before me. I almost stop in my tracks in disbelief as she skips in front of me into where I am headed. Of course I do the red blooded male thing - and follow.

Up the escalators she goes, her dark flowing hair trailing down her back, I'm staring so much I almost lose my footing on the escalator. Get a grip man, I reprimand myself and reality and the world around me comes to life once again as my tunnel vision is momentarily (and reluctantly) turned off.

I really can't make this too obvious I say to myself but like I am some slave on an invisible chain of lust I can't help but pursue her. She heads into Costa Coffee, I smile, it takes a nano-second to persuade myself I am going to have coffee too! Oh the shame of it all.

Coffee bought, I sit on the next table, it is the only one free, and the gods are being kind to me I think. I read a newspaper that has been left there, I try not to stare as she opens her book and begins to read. She's slim, elf like with intelligent eyes and lips that offer a thousand untold pleasures - she is beauty beyond magnitude.

It's at the point you kind of hope fate smiles on you, and she asks you to watch her stuff whilst she goes to the ladies so you can do something cheesy like replace her bookmark with your phone number and some kind of innocent message saying 'I don't really do this, you are beautiful, I'm not a pervert etc etc and here is my phone number, please text me...'

Damn, I look at my watch, I really have to be somewhere else and no opportunities are going happen, my fantasies slip away. I'm not going to fend off the shop from armed terrorists, or do CPR and revive her from choking on her coffee, alas this hobbit isn't going to be a hero today, or probably any other day for that fact. The coffee kick and reality hit me square on in the face - it's time to go.

The meeting goes well, in yet another coffee shop. I head for my train home but not before stopping by HMV and bagging a book on Tarantino in the sale.

I collapse on the train breathing hard as I almost missed it, inwardly I am smiling - happy with my brief Nottingham interlude.