the first text is the deepest...
So, on a delightful walk through Highgate Woods I bump into an old friend and get bumped into by an enormous shaggy haired black bear. Which turns out to be my friends new puppy. A very energetic giant poodle called Lulu. She’s utterly beautiful and is literally bouncing off the trees, pounding down the paths and jumping over logs. The dog is quite lively too.
Ha ha. That was like an old fashioned joke.
So, me and my friend - who shall remain nameless - were chatting, and I was saying how gorgeous her new puppy was and she was telling me how long she’s had the dog and how often she walks her and what she eats and where the vet is and then she laments the fact that she doesn’t have her phone on her because she could have shown me some fantastic pictures of the dog from last summer when she really was a puppy and had been clipped in that way that only poodles can be. So they look like they are wearing nothing but ankle warmers and a pom pom hat. Adorable. She said she’d send me the picture.
As we parted company, my friend who shall still remain nameless, unless you know someone in the Muswell Hill/Highgate Woods area who has recently acquired a giant poodle puppy and named her Lulu in which case you’ve probably already guessed that it’s Belinda. Damn! Well, as we parted company she said “I must take your number, to send you that photo. I often think of calling you, and now I have the dog you could join us for walks through ancient woodland.” I added the bit about ancient woodland. My friend didn’t say that.
“That would be great,” I say. “Do you know your number off by heart?” She gave me that look that anyone that gets asked that question gives when they get asked that question. That look that starts off saying “...of course I know my number off by heart - what do you think I am? Some sort of retard?” and gently slides into “...ooo, I’m not sure I know my number off by heart...” She then suggested a selection of random numbers at me punctuated with some “oh no, hang on, it’s not that, it’s 743...no, 473....no hang on...” until she was finally satisfied that she had indeed provided me with her full and genuine phone number.
“Well, look”, I said, “I’ll send you a text now and then you’ll have my number. Call me, for sure, I’d love to come on a walk with you and Lulu.”
And as I walked away, I did just that. I sent her a text. Then I tried to remember where she lived so that I could run as fast as I could round to her house before she got there, break in, ransack the entire place looking for her phone, find it and delete the text I had just sent so that she never had to ever read the message that says...
“Hi, it’s Lara. Can't wait to see the picture of your shaved Lulu.”