Ride with me

So. Yesterday a date with Chris The Architect from Profile Bar. That's worth a few lines, I think. Tomorrow perhaps.

And then today...

It started on Thursday with a bizarre message on my mobile phone.

"Hey Robert, my name's Trey. My mother lives in the same street as your parents and that's how I got your number. I've just got back from Hollywood and am in London for a while. Would be nice to meet."

(This is a seriously dinkum / real / true story)

"Mum, what the fuck? Who is this Trey and why the hell is he on my phone?!"

"Oh, sorry - his mum came over and said that he didn't the have the right immigration papers and he was working in Los Angeles but has had to come back to London... he needed some help. He wants to work in TV so I gave his mum your number."

"Mum! I'm not the _ _ _ recruitment agent... He must sort himself out."

"Bobby, don't be mean. Poor thing, he's only 19..."

"Yes, whatever."

Ping!

"Hello, Trey - you called yesterday. Sorry, I was busy. So - do you want to meet? Let's say Sunday, 2pm outside the HMV on Bond Street."

Bobby arrives at 1.56pm on Sunday, outside the HMV on Bond Street. He calls Trey's number. Trey answers.

Bobby asks "are you in the one in the red and black top?"

Holy fuck.

What Bobby says: "hi, it's nice to meet you..."
What Bobby wants to say; "holy fuck, have you ever heard of All American Jocks? Ohmygod - I'll sell you to a gay porn company and take 10%. We'll make a goddam fortune off you."

Bobby and Trey go to St Christopher's place for tea. Bobby and Trey head to Bobby's office so that Bobby can help Trey with contacts.

At the office Bobby helps Trey with his CV. And he helps him send out a few prospective mail-drops.

Bobby says "no, don't worry - we're in White City but I'll drive you back to Canary Wharf."

Can I confess something?

There is nothing nicer than using your wheels to impress a hot guy so I insist we put the roof down. We drive back to Canary Wharf with the tunes as loud as possible.

I can't work Trey out (in mitigation, he's seriously into musicals...) but all the way back he had the biggest smile on his face. We've agreed to meet again (he insists).

Me no count chickens, eggs, hatch etc,

I cannot wait to see him again. In reality though I say, "yeah, we should hook up again sometime to see how you're getting on..."

Returning from Canary Wharf, I am travelling with the hood down.

Through the City, onto Clerkenwell Road, past Turnpills and up Gray's Inn Road, where I journey through King's Cross...

Maybe it's Les Rhythmes Digitales or maybe it's the warm weather. Whatever the reason, I am in the mood for a tune.

Life is sweet.

This video should be enjoyed with a handsome pair of headphones, turned up to the fucking maximum. Thanks.