Bemused and bewildered, she found herself being helped to her feet by two attentive young men, and that’s where it all began; she reckons she’s been chatted up more in the past six weeks than in the previous six years.
She has been flirted with in the street, propositioned by taxi drivers and relentlessly pursued by a professional acquaintance who had been on little more than nodding terms for three years.
On several occasions guys just stopped to chat in the street, and on crutches I was a captive audience.Miraculously she didn’t spill a drop of the skinny cappuccino she’d bought to see her through the last hours of her evening shift at the BBC.One minute she was standing at the kerb, the next she was sitting in the gutter.I normally race around, a hundred things going on in my head, with my eyes on the ground.That’s because — how ironic — I am always worried about falling over. normally I can run around in stilettos from 7am to midnight and think nothing of it.
“One evening at Marylebone station I was loping along with only seconds to spare and the prospect of loping all the way back to platform one if I missed the doors.