I Spotted You…

These are genuine ’spotted’ ads printed in a London newspaper, illustrating both the human need for love and the fact that there are people at home right now, picturing your oblivious face and grinning inscrutably.

You were wearing a green jacket and carrying a rolled-up copy of Grazia at around four o’clock on June 14th on the northbound platform of Old Street tube station. I tried pushing you onto the tracks claiming I could see the Apocalypse in your eyes. Would love to meet you for a drink one evening. I work in the Budgens.

You were the rather dashing and tall gentleman who asked me for directions to Costa Coffee on Fulham Broadway. I said I didn’t know. Well, I do now. It’s the second on your right, midway down, between the newsagents and TGI Fridays. Hope that helps.

You were the stunning brunette striding across Dean Street at 3.05pm on Saturday 10th March arguing on the phone with someone called ‘Kenneth’ about ‘that bitch Angela’. You then turned into Wardour Street and kicked a newspaper vendor in the sacks. Call me.

I was the guy in the Hammersmith Tesco who retrieved your dropped Oyster card from the pet food aisle on Monday. You said, ‘Thank you’, and I said, ‘Not at all – would you like to go for a drink?’ and you said, ‘No, I don’t want to go for a drink.’ Just wondering if you’d like to go for a drink.

You: Pink iPod, floral dress, dark complexion, waiting for bus on Mile End Road on the 26th of this month around eight o’clock. Me: Ginger Marti Pellow. Get in touch.