Their initial investigations were conducted by inviting me over for drinks and 'nibbles' which was ok, Brenda might be nice but I couldn't tell over Gary's braying. We're British so I had to 'tit' their 'tat' - I asked Brenda to join me in town for supper and Gary decided to join us because he's the sort of man who never misses an opportunity to behave like an arse in public so we had a ghastly time - I nipped over to the front desk and paid the bill before we'd finished eating so I could get home as quickly as possible - I'd hoped they'd noticed that we weren't getting on and we could quietly (Britishly) leave it at that.
... but that isn't to be, I have been included on a very long email list for a twice-weekly 'round robin' update of Gary's latest literary reviews, views on modern music and news of their various family activities
The house-owner had mentioned that if the front door was left open the next-door-neighbour-in-his-dressing-gown was liable to run in, pelt down the hallway, out the other side and leap over the fence into his own back garden.
I'd figured this could go either way - scary or entertainment - I reserved judgement.
Chatting with this neighbour and his wife last night I realised that they were trying to decide if they wanted to be friends with me, I'd told them that I normally live in Bristol:
near Aldgate East - a woman was coming towards me through scaffolding poles that were taking up the pavement and the roaring traffic was way too close. She looked like she lived on the street and as she was coming straight for me waving a hand that held a polystyrene cup in one hand and clutching a handwritten sign slightly scrunched in the other I guessed she was going to ask for money. We were in a noisy stream of people when she was in front of me I stood still to hear what she was yelling while waving the begging note and I saw the money note and everyone was bumping into us she in a dizzy mix of shock and delight
THAT GUY THAT GUY HE GAVE ME TWENTY POUNDS - THAT GUY JUST GAVE ME TWENTY POUNDS - TWENTY POUNDS!!
we high-fived and she went on her way trying to tell as many people as possible
I also went to See Things but I was poorly so only got as far as the roller and a bowl of chips before retiring to the bed of my tiny rented apartment.
Here I gained an insight into another answer of how Parisian women stay so remarkably slim:
A very small kitchen plus an enormous fridge. Only a very slim person can get into the kitchen with the fridge and then the tiny space between body and fridge only allows access to a small amount of food, the bigger you get the less food available - a perfect feedback loop
it's a fashion hotspot - this photograph is a typical example of daywear in Putney
Today I walked out in one of my Frankenstein jumpers - an orange one. I had stopped at a frantically complicated traffic junction - a car braked hard in the middle of the intersection, the driver wound down the window and, amid a torrent of honking, asked (in a way that sounded like she did actually want one) where I got that jumper.