Cooper's Tae Kwan Do and Amy The Drunken (Yet Sweet) Producer

This one's for Charlie!

So, closing in on a month in London - daily routine consists of heavy tube useage (at least 2 rides per day - thank goodness for the Oyster card), rockin' and swayin' back n' forth on London's rails and on occassion, I see a cutie, a hottie, a yummy mummy whatever...someone that needs a good 'ol fashioned "Hello" or a wink or a smile - if nothing more than as a test of my own courage (read chutzpah) than perhaps, it might land me a few minutes of interesting conversation and should I gather the nerve (and usually I do, only its about two or three tube stops once they've gotten out) - I muster the courage to ask them for a date (so far I'm 0-for...).

In any event tonight was no less a dramatic affair and its now the 2nd most (possibly the most) interesting random conversation I've had thus far with a complete stranger. Charlie - a very beautiful, fashionable and trendy part-Welsh girl was riding the Northern Line with me tonight err, last night. I'd just come from seeing American Gangster with Mr. S - whom, kudos again for making an ill-advised outing given his current illness (intentional play on words Mr. S) - and I should've figured it'd be an interesting affair getting home for you see the ride started with the two of us standing on opposite sides of the track (Mr. S) when the CCTV folk at the Underground announce in a clear-as-day voice "Would the gentleman who's attempting to urinate on the Eastbound platform (my side) please stop - you're on camera - please go upstairs and use a toilet, that's disgusting, again, the gentleman attempting to urinate on the platform, please go an make your way upstairs..." that alone set the tone!

Fast forward to the train ride - I notice Charlie (only then she was "cute girl with wavy hair n' funky boots") somewhat diagonally from me on the SERIOUSLY, RAM PACKED WAAAAAAY OVERCROWDED train (that of course isn't going in my direction at all, nor will any other train), and then again at the bus stop which awaited the almost final leg of my journey.

Standing and standing and eavesdropping on a couple of Israelis speaking in Hebrew, I sigh in frustration at the seemingly never-ending amount of buses that are either turning left or right, yet none making that straight line towards the stop. Charlie picks up on the sigh, says something to the effect that it'll be here soon - and there you had it - my first sign to chat her up (you're smilin' now huh Levs??).

A lil' small chat about busing, the general routes of the N13 or 82 or 460 buses and yada yada yada - and Charlie's debating making a walk of it - I quickly tell her to stick around, promising to entertain her - introduce myself and find out her name - Charlie - that's kinda hot you gotta admit...anyhoo, there we are 1:15am several drunkards, Israelis, a granny with 2 banged up suitcases and a yid from TO and a semi-Welsh Brit...I "open" with - "I take it you're a local, eh Charlie" - quizically she looks at me - and as she's answering I land a second line of "I could tell by the accent, that's what gave you away"...smiling now, she then asks me (rather carefully I might add) "...and what part of America are you from??" - as I shake my head in utter disgust and disbelief she quickly corrects her error - "Canada, sorry..."

Apologies accepted Charlie. We board the bus. We chit, we chat - and that's when she asks me what I'm doin' out this way - yada yada yada - she's a recruiter in the Architecture world, yet her dream job is to open a Tae Kwan Do studio and in turn, to become a master Tae Kwan Do artist - now that's kick ass (pun intended)!!!

No sooner than I'm about to ask for her digits, the bus pulls up to a stop, she turns "nice chat, good luck in teaching and have a good night" - and with that she's off.

Now, let's back up to about 10 days ago... one random night again, on the tube on the way home from somewhere I'm riding the Northern Line (at least its good for something - and ps should you refer to the Tube map previously posted - its the black line going straight up).

Stop's a little crowded, forced to stand when this girl next to me - very cute, and I do mean very, begins reading the rag-tag newspapers they hand out like Halloween candy out here - when I do the naturally curious over-the-shoulder-reading thing...I spot an "article" and by "article" I mean there's a pic of a topless hottie in the damn paper - and she happens to fling the page (and the paper) up towards me - I quickly (and without thinking) ask her if she's offering me a closer look at the rather cold looking model...she kinda looks at me and was like - oh did you want to read it? Anything in particular? The Weather perhaps??? And she kinda shoves the paper in my face...I politely decline the forecast, and foolishly point out that I was referencing the semi-nude photo in the local paper -tell her how I'm still not used to that and this is where the adventure begins...

She asks me what I do, why I do it and where I'm from etc. I politely oblige in the chit chat and reciprocate...now here's where it gets interesting - I'm noticing that she's got a rather delayed reaction and can't quite look me in the eye - and if you're reading this Amy - I'm so sorry but... anyways, at first I'm thinking "is this girl 'slow'"? maybe she's got some kind of developmental delay...or is she deaf/hard of hearing and trying to read my lips - for she's paying awfully close attention to my mouth - do I have a bit of ketchup on the side of my face???

As I casually wipe my face with my sleeve (and yes, it was very discreet) I realize nope - no ketchup. Then, it happens - no sooner than 30 seconds pass and I'm being asked the same questions again - I'm thinking "is this a weird groundhog day moment??" - and then it hits me - this girl's gotta be hammered...and well, when she started repeating her "story" unprovoked for the 3rd time, and asking me THE EXACT SAME FUCKING QUESTIONS I JUST ANSWERED - TWICE - for the 3rd time - I felt it was safe to say - she was sooooooo hammered.

Oddly (or as some would say, and by some I mean the 4 of you who actually read this thing, PREDICTABLY), I keep on chatting her up.

Turns out the girl's got a sweet job, might be Jewish (she has a friend named Yael - not too many goyim hang out with Yael-type girls, and she kinda looks like a MOT), and well...she was cute. Did I get a number? Nope...but I got loads of information - I even asked her if she'd remember the conversation - to which she classically replied "...If I think about it for a second, then yes, If I don't, then no....(takes a second or two, nods her head) - OK - done, I'll remember".

And with that her stop arrives - she staggers (kind of not really) up from her seat, gives me a sweet little kiss on the cheek goodnight and heads out of the train.

I couldn't take advantage of her state - I just couldn't. I'm not like that...so the question remains, do I do the stalker-thing and look her up - I know where she works, her first name etc...the rest, thanks to Google is easy....

So, that's what its been like on the London Tube yeh...

Done for now.

Peace.

EM