Wednesday, 31 May 2017

How I met my boyfriend by pure chance

It was one of those days that started with a disgusting poorly made cup of coffee, tired eyes, and I’d woken up late so didn’t have time to wash my hair.

Despite my greasy hair that I’d used half a can of dry shampoo to try and mask the fact I was a hot mess, it turned out to be one of the best days ever. I put my makeup on while on my way to work on the 601 bus. Struggling to hold my compact mirror while using one hand to blend, switch product, and apply mascara. I started work at 9am and my bus pulled into the station at 8.52am – it was half an hour late that morning. After running to work (literally) I was not in the mood for anything.

I’d been at my desk for just over an hour and a half when my editor approached me and asked if I would run over to John Lewis and get some quotes about an event the store was holding. Usually I jump out of my seat when my editor asks me to go out on a job as it’s my favourite part of the job but that day I literally could not be bothered. It had been a stressful night and I just wanted to sit and write with a slighter better made cup of coffee.

I grabbed my bag, sprayed more dry shampoo into my hair, and headed towards John Lewis which is exactly opposite my office. On arrival I met with their press officer and a few other members of staff that were participating in the event. I needed to take a photo for the paper and thought it would look better if there was more people in it. So I asked the press officer to go and find some more people that were taking part in the event to be in the photo.

A couple of minutes later she returned with a dark haired boy who had one of those smiles that just lights up a room (so cliché, so cheesy). I instantly went shy, something that has never happened to me in my entire life. I didn’t want to say something stupid or embarrass myself which I usually couldn’t give a shit about as I tend to embarrass myself on the daily. While I was there taking photos the only thing I said to this dark haired boy was ‘could you move over a little please?’ because his short arse was hidden by someone else in the photo.

I left without saying goodbye, and regretted it instantly. I wanted to speak to him or ask for his number, his name, anything, so badly but didn’t want to come across as unprofessional. At the end of the day I was there to work, not find my next shag.

Back at the office I told the group chat about the boy I'd briefly met at John Lewis and was commanded to use my womanly detective skills to track him down. I emailed the John Lewis press officer and asked her to send me the names of everyone in the photo as I needed it for the paper... she sent them, I found him on Facebook,  and sat there with my finger on the 'add friend' button for a good five minutes. My finger started to ache and I just thought 'fuck it' and pressed down.

We spoke for hours that night. Six months later he gives me back massages without me even having to ask and even plays with my hair now and again. What more could you want?

Written by VavaViolet's Editor Sophie Blackman.


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