“See you Monday, Raymond,” I said, and I waved until the taxi turned the corner and I could no longer see him at the window.
@johnnieLrocks Farewell Pilgrim Pioneers gig alert! Ending on a bang not a whimper.
Details to follow. #dontmissit #gigofthecentury #ditchingthedeadwood
This time, it was going to be perfect. I’d seen his tweet, and then, only hours later,
my eyes locked onto the small poster in the window of the independent record shop near the office.
His handsome face stopped me dead in my tracks. Two weeks’ time. A Tuesday night. Perfect.
The hand of fate once again, moving us like chess pieces. I had the king in my sight.
Remembering my error from The Cuttings, I memorized the name of the venue and, as soon as I got home,
booked two tickets via their website, the second one as backup in case I lost the first.
Perhaps Raymond could use it, come with me; although, on reflection, perhaps not. I wouldn’t want him cramping my style.
Purchasing two tickets turned out to be unnecessary, however, as it was only after the transaction was completed
that I noticed the tickets were to be collected in person on the night.
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