Briefly noted

The Guardian - Weekend - - Tim & Bim - Bim Adewunmi

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.

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