Waiting for number 48

I bought a new pair of shoes this weekend and so of course when I got home I spent a while parading around in them (don’t pretend you don’t do it too). Whilst doing so this scene popped into my head – revolving around the shoes of course. Magical shoes? Well they are from Primarni. I’ll let you decide...

Samantha White was standing at the bus stop on Bishopgate Street waiting for a bus to London Bridge. The rain had finally subsided, which was just as well, I didn’t want my new cream shoes to get dirty already. I glanced down at them for about the hundredth time that day. “They’re some shoes; those studs could probably hurt someone”. I look up at the slightly dishevelled man who is now smiling at me. I smile back. He wasn’t half bad looking, sure I wouldn’t have picked out that colour shirt for him but I could tell his charcoal suit was from Zara so he scored some points.

“Thank you”, I answer “and yes they do double as a weapon”. “Well it is a dangerous world out there so protection is wise, even if they are in the form of shoes”. I smile and start to play with my hair. “So”, the stranger said, “What’s a girl like you doing waiting for the bus?” “What do you mean a girl like me?” I reply intrigued. “Well you know, you seem like the kind that would have a car, chauffeur driven even”. “Well maybe it’s the driver’s day off”. “Nah, you’d surely have a back up driver, surely”. I laugh at the thought; “I do use the bus. In fact I’ve had some of the funniest journeys on buses” “If you say so Princess”. I giggle at ‘Princess’ and run my fingers through my brown locks.

“You do that a lot don’t you? Play with your hair I mean. You don’t have to keep faffing with it, looks pretty good from where I’m standing”. I blush, “Thanks. Sorry, apparently I do it sometimes when I’m flirting” I peek at him from under my eyelashes. “So how would one know if you were definitely flirting?” I pause and then stretch out my right hand; “I would say ‘hi, my name is Samantha and I think you’re pretty cute’“. He takes my hand in a firm grip, “Just pretty cute?” he smiles. Jesus, he had the cutest dimples. “Uhm, I think a more appropriate response would have been to at least tell me your name, don’t you think?” “My name is Adam and I think you’re hot!” “Haha, you’re just saying that to make me feel bad about calling just calling you ‘pretty cute’”. “Exactly”, he grinned and I get another glimpse of those dimples. “You’re funny”. “I know, right? I get it all the time. I don’t even try you know”

He’s going on and I’m thinking Oh no, not another arrogant guy. I’ve dated his type before. Thank God, saved by the bus. “This is me” I say to Adam and move towards the bus that’s just arrived. “You’re getting the 48 too? What a coincidence”. I couldn’t help but smile at his cheeky grin, coincidence my backside. Adam steps aside to let me get on the bus first.  There aren’t any seats left so I stand in an available spot. I bring out my Blackberry; I need to tweet about my handsome encounter. Adam comes and stands next to me just as the bus begins to move; I’m thrown off balance, into his arms and onto his right foot. The look on his face as he tries to play hero but also hold in his scream is so endearing I have to bite my lip to stop from laughing out loud. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” “Fine” he manages to get out, “Are you okay?” “Yes I am. I’m so so sorry”. “Jeez I know you said those heels were a potential weapon but I was trying to help”. “I know and I said sorry. Stop being such a baby”. “I should step on you and see how you like it” Adam retorted. “Now wouldn’t that just be childish?” “Perhaps, but I’m in too much pain to care”.

We both fall into an awkward silence, me because I didn’t know what to say and I guess he was still in pain slash sulking. As the voice on the bus announces London Bridge I glance over at Adam and wonder if I should say something.  “Well this is me. It was nice to meet you Samantha, even though you almost maimed me” Adam’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “It was nice meeting you too Adam. Actually I’m getting off at London Bridge too”. “Uh huh, you wouldn’t just be getting off because I said I was”. There it was again, I guess at least it meant he was feeling better. We both get off the bus and I’m about to walk off towards the station when Adam calls after me, “Will you have dinner with me next Thursday?”

I turn around; “You’re not really my type” I say, “No offense”. “None taken, I just figured that after saving your life the least you could do is agree to have dinner with me. Think of it as a proper way to say thank you for saving your life instead of having stomped on my foot. What do you say?” I hesitate, he is very good looking but the arrogant ones always are. Jonathan was good looking and look at how that relationship turned out. Adam is looking at me expectantly, what do I say? Damn those dimples!