Wilf managed to entertain me all weekend by taking me on several London Walks including the 'Eccentric London Tour' which provided a wonderful overview of the weird and wonderful world of London Town. He also asked me to stay at his flat which is located in the wilds of the Essex part of the Central Line. I was pleased to see that he'd managed to keep up a good level of tidiness and hygiene but was slightly concerned that he hadn't changed his dishcloth for a while - Kim and Aggie would have a fit! He gave me a wonderful present of a pair of MBT boots which I've been humming and harring over for a while now so I can tone my bottom whilst I walk, which is a bonus in this economic climate.
Luckily I was put up in the spare room; I know that I've 'had relations' with him in the past but I can't be bothered nowadays as I'd have to re-iron my nightie afterwards which spoils the moment somewhat. Wilf's spare room is a little strange, it's got a distinct 80s vibe which consists of a black metal bedstead, dark ash units and matching curtains and duvet cover which Max Headroom would have been proud to own. On Sunday morning he knocked politely on the door, waited to I'd mumbled consent and tried to kiss me after proferring a copy of Essex on Sunday. If he'd offered the full broadsheet edition of The Sunday Times I may have consented, but a free paper? Dream on matey.
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