17 March - Shoes & Showers

It’s a small world we know that I can think of many examples, one of my favourites being lifting up my head from deep inside a 2 ft tall menu in a very posh restaurant in San Francisco about twenty years ago during my first visit, only to shriek in disbelief. The waiter poised to take our order was the son of a neighbour, himself a restaurateur, back in my home town. Joe is approx. a year or two older than me. I knew he had left home but fancy ending up as client and waiter on the other side of the world. I think by this chance encounter we’d already slept together a couple of years previously. Must have been one of those youth things that leave no particular memory as clearly we’d not kept in touch…
Two examples this week: I invite a girlfriend along to a forthcoming shoes and champagne party at a friend’s house. This is to introduce the line designed by a new Manolo Blahnik (or so we would like to believe) who the host has met recently at a wedding. The friend I email does fashion PR and she replies immediately that she’s approached the very same designer at Fashion Week to offer her services as he does everything inhouse and that’s going to be impossible to continue and they had a positive meeting , she hopes he’ll agree to her fees etc. So… I will talk her up a storm at the shoes and champagne party and hopefully they’ll work together and my little comments will be the clinching cherry of the deal.
So to now… I get a text from Damian (reasonably good mate, though we only meet for skiing trips or city holidays around music festivals, last year we were together in Barcelona for Sonar last June), then Summer bbq’s, the odd brunch on a Sunday etc. He asks what’s my email address, and instantly sends me an email asking to guess where he is. I name the odd Himalayan peak. Turns out he’s in my building, for six months on some project. Not only that, but he’s one floor below and sat in similar location as mine. Joy as the lift opens and we do a little dance in the hall. Not often I can paw a human being in work environment. Not even my gay mate Justin. Can you believe it? I never go out of my way to make friends at work, in fact the opposite, 18 months here and not a social outing one to one with any colleagues. Too risky for you know, avoiding them later when they want to tell you all about their lives, listen to their problems and you think, ‘Go get a blog instead’. But Damian? That’s different. He looks so good in his office garb and so neat. I only know the holiday/week end slacker dude. He only knows the relaxed in Barcelona version of me. He’s so sexy too. So the first thing I say is ‘Fantastic, office sex finally on the menu. Find a room’. Ok, he’s not meant to take this seriously at all and in fact does not act on the suggestion. Only his third day here, so yes, best to be careful. I leave him having merely explained where he can park his bicycle in underground garage. No idea where the showers are. Ooohh showers… cubicle.. mmmhh… good hiding possibilities there…