Look what I found when I was springcleaning my desktop on my work computer.

Allow me. I insist.

And with a flourish of his arm, he opened the car door. He dipped a little when I entered the car. He closed the door and I could hear Travis’ ‘She’s so strange’ from the car stereo. Smiling as he released the handbrake, he asked whether I was ready to go. I nodded mutely.

“And she wore a black moustache
And she pilfered all the petty cash”

“She went to Birmingham” He sang along.

I remember a girl-woman draped across her chair, proclaiming, “I am so bored. I do not want to work.” I remember being at the Travis and Coldplay concert, jumping, jumping with a girl.

“And she knew just what to do
And while the cats were all sniffing glue”

I examined his side profile as he drove. It was almost perfect, save for that slight kink in his almost straight nose. In other words, his profile was almost perfect. Just like he was. He was pretty amazing stuff. And he was not mine. That did not stop him from opening doors for me, pulling out my chair and putting out his arm for me to cling on when I was just a little tipsy. He was generous and humourous and a terrific dancer.

I once asked him what he wanted from me that he could not get from other girls. His answer was that I had a penchant for play acting and too much imagination. And your sparkling eyes, he added as an afterthought. I had laughed at his poor attempt to flatter me. This Prince Charming had some flaws after all.

“So now she starts to cry
Without a reason why
She’s so poor”