"I declare my independence," I told the cute young man in the white hat standing on the corner of Piccadilly Circus.
He gave me a strange look. "Independence of what?" he asked.
I thought for a moment before saying, "My independence of everything, that's what."
He nodded and reached for my hand. "I'd love to take you out to dinner," he said.
I snatched my hand back. "Your a stranger," I said backing away, "I don't go to dinner with strangers."
"Your also a bit of a fool," he said, "don't you know who I am?"
"I don't care who you are," I said, "I wont go with you."
And to prove the point, I walked away.
Of cause he followed me, as I knew he would. Men are like that. They don't believe in taking no for an answer. Still, I was intrigued.
He followed me into a shop that was selling cheap rubbish. When I picked up a little plaid scarf, he came up to me and said, "Why not buy your self a pretty dress, or a nice pair of shoes?"
"And why don't you mind your own business," I said back to him as I carried the crappy scarf over to the checkout counter.
"I can't," he said, "I'm an interfering swine."
I had to laugh at that one.
"Your right there," I told him, "now bugger off before I call the cops."
"You wouldn't dare," he said.
I pulled out my phone and dialed 999, and he ran away.
That night, around 7, I got a call from an unknown number. "Yes?" I said, "who is it?"
"Me," a male voice replied.
"Me who?" I said, curiously.
"The man you told to bugger off, that's who," he said.
"Oh yeah?" I said, "and how'd you get my number, then?"
"A source told me," he said.
"A source?" I said, "what bloody sauce. Is this a crank call, or what?"
"Look," he said, "just say you'll come out to dinner tonight with me, OK?"
"NO," I yelled, and shut the phone off.
The next morning while strolling through Piccadilly Circus on my way to work I was met on the same corner as the previous day by the man in the white hat. "Ah, we meet again," he said brightly, doffing his hat to me.
I frowned. "I could have you up for stalking," I said trying to find a way across the street through the heavy traffic.
"You like me, really," he said, "don't you?"
"I'd like you better if you stayed away from me," I said.
"OK," he snarled, "I will. Goodbye."
When I looked again he was gone. Thank goodness, I thought.
Odd thing is, though, I can't seem to get him out of my head. And every time I'm in Piccadilly Circus, I find myself looking round for him. I really don't know why, because he was a bug, he really was. But I'm still looking...
© Mimi Dey, 2018. All rights reserved.