London Bridge station, 6:30pm, Valentine's Day: chaos.
Londoners needing to be somewhere else fast fast fast. Pedestrian road rage. Fisticuffs at the florist's kiosk. Eyes poked out by gienormous bunches of long-stem roses. Teddy bears crushed by the enraged romantic mob. By comparison, Christmas Eve was as quiet as a shy pollock with a bad hangover.
In the midst of this madness, I saw a fairly composed man scouting the crowd, clearly waiting for someone. Indeed, it didn't take long for his lady companion to arrive and hug him with a big, happy smile. Close enough to eavesdrop on their conversation, I witnessed the most bizarre and yet authentically loving moment of the evening. After a bit of a rummage in her bag, she presented him with a warm, fragrant pasty to eat on the train. Somewhere in between laughter and tenderness, he kissed her and held her tight.
A Valentine's pasty. I loved the idea. Other options, maybe, the Valentine's pie, the Valentine's potato wedges? Or even better, the Valentine's unclogging of the shower plug? The Valentine's uninterrupted CSI omnibus? Now we are talking!
I may be the Grinch who killed Valentine's Day many many years ago, but if anybody out there is wandering what to get to their loved ones next year, I now know the answer. A smile, the sheer joy of being together and a pork and apple pasty. Judging from the couple at the station: success guaranteed.
My present was a home cooked meal, his watching Die Hard 4
ReplyDeleteI am curious: were these twao actions carried out independently, or did you eat and watch together?
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