Pynchon

I met a Girl this evening. Her name was Lisabeth.

By about 4pm this afternoon the weather in Birmingham started getting really bad, so The Company started letting people go home early. Being a saint I elected to stay, as I wasn't limited to options to get home (one bus doesn't turn up, another will at some point), but at 5pm I had had enough and left.

The bus shelter was overflowing with people. I reckon there must have been 20 people in the bus shelter and 10 people outside. I squeezed in from one end of the bus shelter and a Girl, I'd seen before many times as she gets the same bus as me, squeezed in after me. We shared a nod.

A bus came. 30 people got on. The Girl and I looked at each other. We were alone in the bus shelter.

"That's better", she said.

"Sure is", I said.

And we started talking. It was half an hour before our bus came. When we got on (ladies first, obviously) we went to the top deck, sat together and carried on talking. You can learn a lot in 2 hours.

Her name is Lisabeth. She comes from Austria. She has a lovely accent. She speaks perfect English. She studied English at school, but said that her spoken English improved dramatically once she started to work in the UK. She sometimes has trouble understanding the Irish and Scottish accent, but has no problem with the full blown Brummie accent. She works as a Credit Controller, not far from where I work. She likes her job. She has lived in London and Glasgow, but likes Birmingham better. She has worked all over Europe, but settled in the UK 6 years ago. She has a boyfriend, who she hardly sees because of the hours that both of them work. She seemed to be very smart.

She is mid 20's, shorter than me, dark haired, has green/grey eyes, perfect teeth and is curvy and pretty. Her hair was wet from the snow and I suggested that she invest in a woolly hat. That made her laugh. She had some blue eye makeup on, but it had run a little because of the water. I had to resist the temptation to wipe it off her face with my thumb. She was wearing an amazing woollen brown coat, black boots and dark trousers.

Oh, yes. Nearly forgot. I wanted her. I wanted her very badly. I felt lightheaded and breathless. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I wanted to stroke her hair and kiss her and hold her and tell her that I loved her. I wanted to hold her hand, walk around with her and show her off to everybody. I wanted her.

I feel awful.

I know that this, whatever this is, is utter nonsense. I do not for one minute think that this is love at first sight, and that tomorrow I will be telling Lorraine that we are all over. I know that this is all about my being on my own for the week, eating badly, over tiredness because I've not been sleeping and my worries about where Lorraine and I are going. This kind of thunderbolt does not happen to me.

I miss my friend Vicky. Lisabeth looked a bit like Vicky.

I am probably coming across badly. Fuck it. This is not me in a good light, but I promised to be honest on this blog.

How am I going to face Lorraine tomorrow, when I pick her up from New Street Station? My face will betray me. It's got to.

Labels: Sex, Weather, Work