Part 3.

No more mutant talk, but you can understand I had to get that off my chest.

So, whilst I sit here and  wait for someone to contact me and offer stewardship of this coffin voyage, to bede facto parents to me and a few thousand ants, maybe I should open up a little and make you feel a little bit of sympathy for me, instead of, I assume, turning to your friend and saying “I’m not surprised they sent this Xmen hating asshole in to space, I would too.”

So, everything I’ve written is true but there’s maybe a few bits of omisisions. Number one being Claire. Claire, I shall not reveal your surname, but do feel free to cash in on it if you think it’s warranted.

Claire was beautiful. I am sure she still is. She took my breath away the first time I saw her but I’d recently seen that Louis Therouz episode where he meets the chat up hypnotist so I seized on the momentum, walked right up to her in the Bookshop we were both in and said: You smell amazing, you remind me of the spring. Hi, I’m John, what sort of book are you looking for today.”

What I failed to do was space that out in to a compliment,  an introduction and a question so she just got streamed at, but eveidently I wasn’t giving off creepy vibes so she asked me to repeat the whole thing.

Which I did, more slowly, with gaps for her to respond. And she did eventually by saying she’d recently seen that same Louis Theroux show and wasn’t he funny, and that she was looking for good travel books.

A ha, I said, have you ever Read Paul Theorux. I hadn’t, not really, maybe one where he was on a train, but that was enough for me to steer her towards that section of the bookshop and discuss some of his work.

Obviously I waxed lyrical about him and the genre and, seeing a chink of light, explained that I was a copywriter by trade but that my aim was to move in to travel writing. Absolutely not true, a lie, but, hey look at me now.

Well, instincts were good that day, she told me that’s exactly what she wanted to do to (also a lie, but we’ll get on to that) and so, on the basis of this fabric of lies we weaved we agreed to meet a few days later in a pub we both knew, to discuss how we could both crack this world.

Needless to say I went off and did my homework including reading the book I’d recommended to her and the other three that the online store told me people who had read that had also read.

That date went well. I told her I was working on a proposal for a trip that echoed the rise and fall of Neanderthal man’s migrations. She seemed impressed.