LONDON CALLING

Lu, the best moments in life are the unexpected ones. Your friend will invite you out for a night on the town with her visitings friends from Tokyo. This girlfriend spent a year abroad and acquired an international crew  while traversing the globe. Remind yourself to do that next time instead of working for a psycho. Naturally, you anticipate you will meet Japanese locals, but will be pleasantly surprised when four English men (they HATE being called British) arrive at the bar. You and a particular lad (so English, I know) will hit it off. You won’t mind his aggressive advances because (he’s hot) but you’re feeling rather uninhibited yourself. You just landed your first executive gig #bossbitch, you have a full week off and you are no longer poor (AKA dependent on your parents for emergency funds, shut up, don’t judge).

However, your hot and heavy make out sesh will progress into a two hour heart-to-heart on his private hotel terrace (you LOVE heart-to-hearts and seamlessly stumble into them often). This conversation will unearth some alarming personal revelations but for the first time you disregard some interesting flaws. What are they? Glad you asked. First, this guy didn’t go to college. Yes, you read that correctly. NO COLLEGE (UMM, WTF). Apparently in London, college is a privilege not a necessity. Next, this guy went to jail. I’ll let you process that and then explain. Take as much time as you need. Cheese (as you like to call him) works in finance (AKA rolling in the bank) and got transferred to Japan as a broker for six years (hence how he met your friend). Japan is not like LA. If you get caught with an illegal substance, you are going straight to jail. No, there is no get out of jail free card, sorry. A club got raided and he got busted with half a pill of molly on him. He got thrown straight into the slammer. 34 days later, this dude was jail free. Sadly, I don’t think the two of you will be traveling to Japan anytime soon. Regardless of all this shit, you’re still into this dude. He didn’t go to college, but he’s smart. He went to jail, but somehow still has a very successful career and a seemingly strong moral compass.

You’ll spend the night. The next morning, he’ll invite you to ride in his limo and take you straight to Coachella. Unfortunately, you have to refuse the offer. When he returns to LA, on the subsequent Monday, you’ll grab wings and beer. English people think Americans are fat asses who only eat wings and drink Bud Light. Yes, he made you take picture of a Bud Light can for his FB album #embarrassing. Long story short, he is leaving for SF in the morning and you decide to join him on the tail end of his trip. You rob him of his personal voyage to SF (but he didn’t seem to mind… can’t blame the guy, right?) 8 hours and a bag of sunflower seeds later, you end up in San Francisco. In your mind—this trip is a spontaneous adventure with a hot English guy (I mean this story has bragging rights ALL over it).

However, the minute you arrive, the paradigm shifts. This carefree hook up transpires into a full-blown love affair jam packed with aggressive hand holding, PDA and endless heart-to-hearts. You guys did it all. From a Giants’ game, to a brewing tour, to a quick stop in Chinatown and ferry ride to Sausilito, this  travel adventure transformed into a whimsical fairytale. Naturally, you ruined the moment when he told you he fell in love by laughing in his face (but like who says I love you after three days…). You’ll  live completely in the moment but you can’t ignore the wave of sadness ; which hits like a tidal wave on the last day. You just lived Lost in Translation. But you fucking forgot about the sad part…THEY NEVER SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN. You live two completely different lives on opposite sides of the world in completely different time zones. But, you are hooked and he is too. I will never forget the look on his face the moment you said goodbye.

You still text and face time daily (even though this was only a week ago). You are already planning your next trip, but, you know one day, you’ll have to let this one go. Cheese please don’t haunt me on the morning of my wedding day (g*d willing it happens).

 

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