I met a wonderful man this week. What an excellent specimen of a human being he was. Wandering through the posh streets that lead the way to Victoria from Hyde park with my friend who is visiting from Argentina, we paused so I could get my bearings. From across the road approached this fantastic man. He wore a suit jacket over a bare chest, teamed with boxers, biker boots and a riding hat; these were accessorized with a dummy on his pinky. He also pushed a buggy, to match the dummy I presume as there was no baby in it.
His mission was a hunt for hugs... 'I've had such a bad day I just really need a hug', was his opening remark. Why of course! Who doesn't enjoy intimate contact with a half naked random on the street? Especially one sporting Mothercare jewellery. I received my cuddle and peck on the cheek before he swiftly moved on to my friend - 'and I must have a hug from your gorgeous friend too!' Lucas, who was squatting down to rest was not in the most optimum position for this kind of activity, although I'm sure our new friend would have thought quite the opposite. Before Lucas could risk the face to crotch "hug" that was looming he leapt up, entering into a rather prolonged embrace followed by a kiss upon each cheek. 'I'm not really having a bad day I just wanted a hug'; it transpired we were his first success story of the afternoon despite several earlier attempts. He explained that he particularly relished the males who were willing to comply when you 'get to feel their boobies and their bums', all accompanied by gesticulations in case we needed confirmation as to the location of these body parts.
As he left jauntily down the path towards his next targets it became apparent that his boxers were slightly too large for him, they had slipped down to allow his buttocks to peep out at us, a final farewell. Poor Lucas wasn't entirely sure of what had just happened. 'I don't get it,' was all he could say, as if I did. As if this was some kind of London tradition.
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