‘Okay, I get it,’ I butt in, mouth full of chip. ‘You’re drunk. You can see my burger and you want a piece of it. But listen here, buster. . .’Buster?‘This is my burger. I’ve been stuck at work trying to polish a turd all day. I should be at a hotel with my boyfriend right now but he dumped me less than two weeks ago so instead I’m going back to my empty flat where I’ll probably fall asleep with half a Whispa on my face. So no, you cannot have any of my burger.’ I shuffle my body to the left so I’m no longer facing this potentially unhinged weirdo.
‘Um, no, I’m not drunk and I actually have my own food,’ he waves to the brown bag at his feet. ‘And I hope you don’t think I’m weird for talking to you like this. Though maybe you are too. . . you’re wearing an inflatable unicorn lilo as a necklace, after all.’
The cheek of this unhinged weirdo!
‘I’mjust quietly going about my business, thank you very much.’
He holds his hands up. I don’t know why the beginnings of a tiny smile are trying to bust out from my lips so I frown even harder. What a double-edged sword my sexy anger is turning out to be.
‘I’ve been trying to tell you that you have gherkin on your chin,’ he says, pointing towards my face.
‘Gherkin. On your chin.’
Right. I swipe at it with the sleeve of my cardigan.
‘Thanks,’ I say. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Unhinged Weirdo munch his chicken wrap. My stomach rumbles despite the two beef patties working their way through my digestive system.
‘It’s nice to see that I’m not the only one eating a Dinner of Shame,’ he smiles. His hair is the same colour as his russet beard and he’s pulled it into a topknot. He issonot my type. So why is he talking to me? And why won’t he get the hint? And why do I feel compelled to chat to him anyway?
‘I didn’t mean to be rude earlier. It’s just that you’re probably a crazy person and I don’t want to encourage you,’ I say sympathetically.
He laughs. He’s got quite a nice laugh.
‘You’re right,’ he nods. ‘I probably am. Who in their right mind would try to strike up a conversation with a pretty brunette with gherkin on her chin and a unicorn around her neck?’
‘You think I’m pretty?’ I blink.
‘That’s all you took from my last sentence?’
‘It’s always nice to hear a compliment. Unless, were you talking about Ulrikka?’
‘You’venamed the lilo?’ he asks, peering at me over his glasses.
‘She’s a rescue unicorn, actually,’ I say, explaining that she’s the only beacon of light after a tough day at work while he listens attentively. ‘So, why are you eating dinner on the tube?’
Arnie – that’s his name – has had a tough day too. He spent it writing code for a new app he’s working on and, well, I’ll be honest, he lost me after he first used the word ‘code’. I think he’s realised because now he’s moved on to telling stories about the people he works with, which is way more on my wavelength. I find myself chuckling at his jokes and feeling strangely brightened by his presence. Plus, his dinner looks all kinds of tempting. I keep staring at his Zinger and wishing it was in my mouth. (Not a euphemism).
‘This is me,’ I say as the train starts to break. ‘Thanks for putting a smile on my face.’
‘Can I get your number?’ He looks at me with those pale grey eyes I don’t usually go for. They twinkle a little bit. There’s Zinger all up in that beard. Arnie is exactly the kind of guy I wouldn’t have even registered a week or so ago, just your average hipster going about his cortado-drinking day. He is ideal anti-list material.
‘Sure,’ I squeak.
My vibrating phone buzzes me awake and I open one eye the minimum possible amount. Turns out I’m in bed with all my clothes still on. My forehead feels sticky and I reach up to discover that half a melted Whispa had glued itself between my eyebrows, as predicted. Sitting upright, I take a look at my reflection in my bedroom mirror. It’s like I’ve had a really, really bad experience at the brows salon. Removing the chocolate monobrow and destroying the evidence via the medium of my mouth I grab my phone to see who has interrupted my Friday night snooze. It is 11:05pm. What a liberty.
Hi,it’s Arnie. The not actually crazy one from the tube earlier.(He’s protesting way too much).Fancy meeting up for a drink tomorrow?
Oh my god. It’s Arnie the crazy one from the tube earlier. He wants to meet up for a drink. WTF do I do now?!?!?!?!
Mila HELP I was high on burgers tonight and gave my number to a guy who is 100 per cent NOT my type and now he’s asked me out and I don’t know what to do.
The double tick appears and I drum my fingers impatiently, filling in the gaps while I wait.
He started up a conversation with me on the tube.
He’s clearly insane.
I’m calling him Unhinged Weirdo.
