Obviously I’m stressing about what to wear on my first training session with Jack, which is later this week even though I can’t exactly tell you when, so on Tuesday I go on ebay and buy new trainers and on Wednesday lunchtime I go to American Apparel and buy a new vest. Of course the new trainers won’t arrive in time for me to wear them and when I try on the vest at home later it doesn’t fit right so I’m not going to wear that either.
On Wednesday I’m also expecting a call from Jack to set the time of the session and this call comes when I’m in Argos buying some hair clippers because my last ones broke and then I answer the phone and Jack talks to me about the training session like he’s reading from a script and I just say “yes” and “sure” and sometimes “ok” at all the right points.
Then I leave Argos and I kinda hope that I get hit by a bus so that the paramedics come and put me in an ambulance and go through my phone to find my emergency contact in order to notify them and they see the last call being from Jack and they ring him up, mistaking him for a relative or my best friend or the father of my children. But I don’t hope that enough to actually throw myself in front of a bus, which I take as a healthy sign for my mental state: I’m still in control.
After work I head to the gym to meet Donnell and Scott and on the way I pick up a Red Bull because Scott told me that’s what Jack drinks before a workout, and even though I had made a promise to myself to never drink anything else apart from water and/or paint stripper, what’s good enough for Jack is good enough for me.
So at the gym I work out with Donnell and we do exercises I’ve stolen from Jack via the method of observation, also known as stalking, and then I go on a sunbed because that’s what Jack does. Then I shower and head home and on the way I try to picture Jack at my funeral, telling people: “yes, I loved him, I really did” with a tear in his eye and people trying to console him, but there’s no point, nothing they can say or do will bring me back.
Now then, let’s see if this works. I asked the other day who the singer guy with the guitar that I saw on TV was and one of you correctly identified him as Jamie Scott – so thank you. The reader who identified him also sent the video and I like this performance so much and I thought I’d share it.
Look at him, such a beautiful boy, singing his little song about standing in the rain, smiling away, it’s just too nice. Of course he’s also lucky enough that it’s actually raining and every time he sings that line people cheer. Oh yeah, this single is out on Monday apparently and if he does well, I take full credit for it because I’ve pushed him on this blog, which is obviously more powerful than the Times review section and a Rolling Stone cover combined.
I don't care if in two months' time he's ubiquitous and as annoying as James Blunt, right now we like him. Even though I don't think he'll ever be as annoying as James Blunt, because this boy is charming and handsome and as we all know appearance is fate.
Finally, here’s another idea I’ve had that you might be able to help with. I want my own wikipedia entry. For this blog of course. Mind you, I’m not sure how wikipedia works. Can anyone just add an article about anything? If so, would one of the readers here be interested in making an entry for London Preppy? I’m sure if someone volunteers to do this you’d know what to write (people who email me provide a lot better descriptions of the blog style and tone than I ever could) and I could also give you information on visitor stats, hits, whatever. And of course this would have to remain anonymous, I’d want the focus to be on the blog, not on me as a person. Anyway, let me know.