Lord Byron, busy as always, has been writing less. (I was and still am flattered he looked for me and found me on Facebook–you naughty old chap!) So I’ve been trying to find other connections in the UK.

So, feeling blue after the whole Njal ordeal, I responded last weekend to a strictly platonic ad in the UK, that ended with these lines:

So….. What you waiting for? Let’s travel this journey and see where it goes.

All aboard 🙂

It looked promising. So I responded:

Hello,

I never thought of CL as a train so much as a sea of effluvia, given the number of posts one has to wade through to get to a real gem.

I’m not in the UK but across the pond. I’m here seeking companionship, hoping to make some friends. I lead a lonely life this side of the pond and have always found it difficult to make friends–I’m the silent wallflower/bookworm type. But writing! I enjoy writing, and that I can do. I live a life of words…

Perhaps you’ll write back, or perhaps you only are looking for folks on that side of the pond. Either way, best of luck to you and where the CL train takes you!

Warmly,

F

And thus our flirtatious exchange on that CL train began.

His: Ha! More fool you!
I love my American cousins so you’ve gone to the top of the list 🙂

Mine: Top of the list, eh? Well I do love British accents, so I shall put you on the top of my list. 😉

His: You love my accent. I’m the ultimate brit cheeky chap 🙂

Mine: And what is this cheeky chap looking for? Some American ladies to board? Ha!
I imagine I won’t be bored if I board.

His: I have no prerequisite. I just go with the flow. You aboard!?!?

Mine: Sure, if you give me a ticket to ride. First class only!

And maybe a soundproof room so no one hears me singing, “Some Girls Are Bigger than Others.” (I do love The Smiths.)

It is surprisingly a lot of work to do some unsheathing….
And by that I mean de-husking tomatillos, of course.

His: You deserve nothing but the best!!
One confession…. I’m drunk so don’t judge me on tonight’s performance!!!!!

Mine: Even better! You won’t remember what I do to you then!

His: Oh really now I’m getting scared.
But if you have to do stuff….. Go on then. At least I won’t remember in the morning 🙂

Mine: Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle and go easy on you. Only maybe a smart slap on your cheeks for being so darn cheeky.

Now what other confessions would you like to make? 😉

His: Slow down!!!
My confessions are few and far between but when they come…. They come!

Mine: It’s okay–I used to be a Catholic so know all about confession and punishment.

His: My mum told me they’re the worst kind.
I’m not convinced…..

Mine: Former Catholics are the worst kind of what? Catholics, perhaps, but much better at other things. 🙂

His: Oh now you have my undivided attention.
I could really do with meeting a former Catholic right now and compare sins 🙂

Mine: Are you drinking alone or having a laugh with your mates? Do they let you drunk text ladies at all hours?

His: I was out with my mates but came home now and having one more beer to relax. So you have me all to yourself, you lucky, lucky thing 🙂

Mine: Do you use WhatsApp? You could always give me a ring.

His: Can’t at the moment as my temporary flat mate is asleep literally next door 😦
But I’d like to!!!

Mine: Ah, and here we are back to the start of our initial exchange–both us needing a soundproof room! Ha! I take it those walls are paper thin, eh? 😉

His: He’s had a rough time and I’m helping him out for a few days. Although it’s been two weeks!!!

So my American cousin… What did you have in mind!?!?

Oh and….. Shall I send you a voice recording of my……. Voice!?

Mine: You know, we could just talk as normal humans without being loud.
Well my email and number are below:

[…]

Sadly, I have to work tomorrow, but you can message me on WhatsApp later. 🙂

I would love to hear your voice! Send me a recording and I will send you one of me reading a Wallace Stevens poem. 🙂

His: What’s it worth????

So I send a recording of myself reading a Wallace Stevens poem, and in return, he sends me a short clip that makes me laugh every time I hear it. His email is titled “Poor attempt at me being quiet” and as I listen, I’m greeted with: “Well helllooooo,” he whispers. “This is not my normal voice, but I’m just being posh.”

I can’t listen and not smile. I like him. I like him a lot.

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