Subject: The city by the river, a boy without a dream
Friday, August 16th, 2002
Time: 1:00 am.

ALL HAIL

Miss Louise Wener.
Isn't she just a glass and a half of pure milk bonkability?
Isn't she?
Yes.
I met her today. She looked at me and everything. Smiling, no less. Simper simper and such.

Glasgow was very nice this evening. An end of the day summer warmth breathing through it all, gashes of peach clouds dominating the skyline. A twilight midafternoon. Surprisingly many people for a weeknight evening. Perhaps tourists.
I milled around the streets for a little while, hovered around displays of partial interest while waiting for the whole thing to start. Louise Wener glides past to go to the ladies. I scrunch my face up like a perplexed kitten (that's too cute..try....pug), wondering if I was seeing things.
Found out later that it was her..she has dyed her hair a maple blonde, which is most becoming.
Anyway.
More wandering around..claimed a seat and waited. There was a piano and two mics, which lead me to think she might do a couple of songs, but that didn't happen.
She came out looking like a scared rabbit..heard her whisper something panicky to an aide about keeping people waiting.
Strange that a group of around 25 should make someone who was accustomed to venues of thousands nervous. I suppose it is a bit of a cliche. Anyway..one of the book shop managers conducted an interview..and he seemed more nervous than her, pausing for too long and generally agreeing all two readily and vocally with whatever she was saying. It was interesting. She relaxed somewhat..probably taking comfort from the amusingly (endearingly? Nah..) floundering interviewer.
She signed my book and three sets of Sleeper sleevenotes,
"To Martin with lots of love..Louise! X", and other variations.
Yes I am feeling unusally teenage right now.
Teenage boyish. Forgive me.
So what did I say to make her melt into a sloppy mess of raging yet doey-eyed rabbity lust?

"I like your shoes"

I'm like Shakespeare and Voltaire and Jack Nicholson rolled into one, me. A charm.

She was very nice so there.
And she had nice shoes.
Glittery sequined sandels if you must know.

Went for a drink afterwards to calm my fluttering groin heart in the Polo Lounge. An aged lesbian stared at me rather oddly. That's about all of note that happened. I sat on a chaise longue and read.

Afterwards a little faded light wandering occurred.
Enjoyed some pizza on the steps outside the royal concert hall and watched the varied wildlife emerge and stumble by. Sometimes smiling, sometimes not.
Joyous kissing is lovely to behold. I'm not being lecherous..you really should know that.
You know the kind of thing where two people have nothing to prove, with just soft magnetism the impetus, devoid of shabby ulterior influences. A purity about it..all blood and private electricity. Don't get me wrong..I don't stare at people cheerfully necking on the street..it just makes me smile then go all glum for ridiculously blatant self-pitying scummy reasons. Chin chin.

On the train home a girl who used to be at my school and some child (I'm guessing her cousin or something) sat a row away from me.
Not sure if she saw me..no big deal. We say hello sometimes but I don't have a massive urge to talk to her, nor her to me. It's fine.
What amused me was that this child, who I am guessing was between 7 and 12 (I'm hopeless at divining child ages)whispered a little too loudly to her..

"There's a transvestite sitting behind you!"

I cackled silently into my hand for a good minute.
Fuck that was funny.
What was funnier was giving her a perky hello as I got up to go..I can only imagine that child's contorted face.
Anyway. That's all.

M
xx