I've seen you twice, in a short time...

                   

Only a week since we started..

Wise words from those Swedish poets of yore, and a UK number one in November 1977. The video of the same was an early artistic opportunity for director of note, Lasse Hallstrom. He subsequently went on to to showcase his What's Eating Gilbert Grape (1993), The Cider House Rules (1999) Salmon Fishing in the Yemen (2011) & The Hundred Foot Journey in 2014.

Fia-Spel (or Ludo as it is more commonly known outside the land of IKEA) is featured in several of the shots, with just a few displaying its name. Surely the four participants know exactly the name of the game being enjoyed with such hilarity and a profusion of woollen knitwear?

Heavens to Betsy! Director's artistic licence maybe or I'm a Dutchman.

In the same vein then, I have taken artistic licence with my recent affairs of the heart....

Firstly; I've seen my date just three times, in a relatively a short while, only 5 weeks since we started. 

Close, but I have seriously refrained from the wearing of knitted horrors.

Next time I shall include a small pullover or perhaps a cardigan so that I can wear my heart on a sleeve. Following the split, it does indeed seem to me, that I'm getting more open hearted.

Name and Date Unknown

As I gradually transition into the earthly paradise that is singledom, my attention is drawn to the labelling done by our society. 

We are conveniently packaged into bitesize homogenous groups for ease of consumption. Affronted daily as we are by smug self righteous forms that force us to disclose a marital status of their choosing, not mine.

Luckily the media have been subliminally championing our cause for aeons, thanks to the likes of The Lone Ranger, Valerie Singleton, One Direction and of course our hero Han Solo. 

In a rare moment of conventionality I stepped out onto the baggage reclaim of Single Life and approached the ultimate test of status commitment. Yes folks...I  have entered the Great Domestic Departure Lounge, in readiness to embark on The Dating Game. Making sure any lingering baggage has been stowed away, and carefully selecting inflight entertainment and suitable menu options.

Driving into Auckland, and parking near the futuristic sounding Vulcan Lane, I headed into the city. The meeting was going to take place amongst sprinkle of tourists and coffee shops that litter downtown Auckland.

Needless to say I was charming, witty but slightly accident prone, having overshot the location and therefore my date, by several hundred metres. Soon however, I was rescued by G.P.S. and a visibly loud checkered shirt, and we finally made rendezvous.

Over the next three hours we talked and laughed like teenagers. Well he did, mainly at me as I accidentally threw errant pieces of muffin and hollandaise in the air. Worse was to come as I shifted position and slipped on the newly laid cobbles (Auckland is getting a much needed make-over, the city centre resembles a smart modern European city, albeit without the accents). This action sent yet more muffin in a skywards trajectory. 

Add to that a coughing fit, and a "dead arm" as I struggled to look both casually relaxed and sophisticated whilst maintaining poise, balance and a slim tummy. It all takes effort you know!

Then finally at the end, I forgot where I had parked my car, thus ensuring a mad rambling answer to "where have you parked?"

However none of this seems to have detracted from the experience, for we are meeting again tomorrow for brunch. 

Or shall I call it a breakfast lunch food experience, I do so hate to be pigeonholed by hollandaise.