There are many strands in the tangled web of sinew and pop-culture references that made me: carbs come first, obvs, and hard on their starchy heels are a love for and fascination with fashion, the more “difficult” the better. Naturally, my mum and dad are the biggest influence on my life; but a close second are television and movies, from which I learned almost everything worth knowing.
The big and small screens gave me romcoms early in life, and that is why no premise is too bonkers or cliched for me. Yes, I’m including the one where a man falls for a woman who has received his dead wife’s heart. Romcoms sit at the core of my being, the cornerstone of my cinematic preferences and inspiration behind every short story I wrote between 11 and 15. I never met a meet-cute I didn’t immediately adore and cherish. Which is why I was delighted to find myself in a classic meetcute situation the other week. There I was, cashless and with a debit card that had failed to do its job after multiple tries, when a handsome young man offered to pay for my coffee and pastry. Holy Nora Ephron!
Spoiler, before you get your hopes up: I failed to convert. Blame the early Sunday hour, because just a little more sleep might have helped me supply my name and ask for his. Instead, I gave enthusiastic thanks before raising my soy latte in salute and backing out of the cafe. My kingdom for a redo! All hope is not lost, however; he looked to be a discerning sort of fellow, so perhaps rhaps he’s reading this right now.
Let me buy you a latte,
Mr Coffee Warbucks. cks.