Slightly offtopic. But fun.
My esteemed friend and colleague Mr Tom Davies, comedian, actor, musician and media courtesan posted this on The No Show website. Kind of related to this project, I think. And visit their site. It's great.
An Open Letter To The Girl I Asked Out On The Tube This Morning
Dear The Girl,We began our tube journey this morning as strangers. We ended it still as strangers. But strangers empowered through our weakness. Or something.I first noticed you in the reflection of the window. You had lovely hair, tied back in a black hairband, and you were wearing a black shirt. You looked, and this is a compliment, not dissimilar to a red-haired version of my friend Laura. You were lovely.And as you sat, reading the copy of the Times that someone had left on the opposite seat to you, and as I sat, attempting to read my copy of "You Shall Know Our Velocity" by Dave Eggers, I began to do the thing that I normally do. My head starts saying "You should ask her out. You know, really pretty people always say that no-one asks them out because people are intimidated by their beauty. You shall not be intimidated! It's just dinner! Just say 'Do you want to go out for dinner?'"And I argue back, "Shouldn't I have some sort of jokey line? Doesn't that work?"And my head says, "No! You can't think of jokes now. Think of them later!"So I started making deals with myself along the lines of "If everyone else around her gets off the train, I'll go and sit and have a chat". And everyone around you got off the train, and I didn't move and I felt kind of foolish. "If she gets off at Victoria," the next deal went, "I will ask her out to dinner." I was getting off at Victoria, so the adrenaline rush of... um... standing up, would fill me with the neccessary determination to perform the asking. This was the theory.Damn it, The Girl, why did you get off at Victoria?As you will remember, I bounded up beside you, slightly out of breath, heart beating, patted your shoulder, and said - in a voice probably inaudible - "Excuse me, my name's Tom, would you like to go for dinner some time?"And you sort of smiled and said, "That's really sweet, but I have a boyfriend" in the cutest dose of rejection I've had. That was really nice of you. Thanks.I'm sorry I ran away quite so quickly. I would have loved to have stayed and chatted, but I felt I had somewhat cut to the chase. It's difficult to small talk after that, and I felt that time was tight. Believe you me, though, as I ran to catch the District Line train to work, I was thinking, "This is slightly insane. Running this fast." Anyway, I hope you have a nice day.Yours,Tom Davies
An Open Letter To The Girl I Asked Out On The Tube This Morning
Dear The Girl,We began our tube journey this morning as strangers. We ended it still as strangers. But strangers empowered through our weakness. Or something.I first noticed you in the reflection of the window. You had lovely hair, tied back in a black hairband, and you were wearing a black shirt. You looked, and this is a compliment, not dissimilar to a red-haired version of my friend Laura. You were lovely.And as you sat, reading the copy of the Times that someone had left on the opposite seat to you, and as I sat, attempting to read my copy of "You Shall Know Our Velocity" by Dave Eggers, I began to do the thing that I normally do. My head starts saying "You should ask her out. You know, really pretty people always say that no-one asks them out because people are intimidated by their beauty. You shall not be intimidated! It's just dinner! Just say 'Do you want to go out for dinner?'"And I argue back, "Shouldn't I have some sort of jokey line? Doesn't that work?"And my head says, "No! You can't think of jokes now. Think of them later!"So I started making deals with myself along the lines of "If everyone else around her gets off the train, I'll go and sit and have a chat". And everyone around you got off the train, and I didn't move and I felt kind of foolish. "If she gets off at Victoria," the next deal went, "I will ask her out to dinner." I was getting off at Victoria, so the adrenaline rush of... um... standing up, would fill me with the neccessary determination to perform the asking. This was the theory.Damn it, The Girl, why did you get off at Victoria?As you will remember, I bounded up beside you, slightly out of breath, heart beating, patted your shoulder, and said - in a voice probably inaudible - "Excuse me, my name's Tom, would you like to go for dinner some time?"And you sort of smiled and said, "That's really sweet, but I have a boyfriend" in the cutest dose of rejection I've had. That was really nice of you. Thanks.I'm sorry I ran away quite so quickly. I would have loved to have stayed and chatted, but I felt I had somewhat cut to the chase. It's difficult to small talk after that, and I felt that time was tight. Believe you me, though, as I ran to catch the District Line train to work, I was thinking, "This is slightly insane. Running this fast." Anyway, I hope you have a nice day.Yours,Tom Davies
posted by Tom at 12:37 PM
4 Comments:
Were I to be a pedant, I'd point out that it's not actually on The No Show On The Web, but rather the blog of This Website Is. I realise this may be confusing.
Visit my website, though! There's a picture of the other Tom on it.
The last time somebody told me I was beautiful, and actualy used those words rather than - (a) i think you're 'nice-lookin', (b) I was drunk, okay, (c) I'm not really into guys but guys go, I think you're 'pretty' or (d) WHAT ARE YOU DO IN MY BED - was actually sickeningly recent.
I've often felt the need to compliment a woman when they're in my arms, but can honestly say I've never given a compliment dishonestly. Those that I have told that they're beautiful really have been... though it sounds as if I'm trying to bolster my own strike-rate by saying so.
Anyway, this was the first time the process worked the other way. It happened in one of the best days I've had for months... lying on a bed all day, doing nothing except holding on to each other for dear life and getting lost in the soothing numbness of sunday television. She was resting her head on my chest, and I can remember having a moment where all the senses suddenly seemed to spasm into life... I was suddenly very aware of the weight of her head, the touch and smell of her hair, and it all seemed... good.
And then she suddenly turned to face me, looked me in the eye and told me she thought I was beautiful. Completely unprompted, completely (as far as I could or can make out) without any kind of motive other than to just make me aware of this fact. Or at least, this thing that she considered a fact, at that moment, in that room, with just our bodies holding each other and the tv flickering.
She touched my face, and I felt happy. And though, when I left her, one of the first things that came into my mind was 'how will it all end', imagining in my own typically masochistic way how it might all go sour, whetehr we'd still even talk or think about each other in a year, two year's time - for a moment, I felt I'd been given something I'd never been given before. Something tangible, fragile but amazing. Not the compliment... but the look, the sense of awareness, and the feeling of togetherness that I suppose I'll always strive to have again.
Well i think you're beautiful Tom.
Yesterday.
The email from my ex read...
"Nice to see you on Sat. Sorry for being a wee bit of a flirt. You're just too pretty."
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