I was sat waiting for a Greyhound bus in the middle of the Nevada Desert when he popped the question. I had been watching the dimpling heat ripples rising above Las Vegas for the last two hours, it wasn’t glamorous, but here he was, in his plaid shirt and his cowboy hat, about 50 years my senior and asking me to marry him.
I was immediately hounded by images of me lazed on a pink inflatable flamingo in a swimming pool under the Texan sun, martini in hand, sugar daddy leathering up on the sun bed nearby. I had always wanted to live in America, but alas, this was not the way. I politely declined, but I did sit and chat with him for another half an hour before boarding my bus outta there. He slipped me his address as I left. And he did have a swimming pool, I looked him up on my way to LA and I could see the little blue rectangle beside his house on google earth.
Obviously, I would have been mad to say yes to the Texan I’d known for mere minutes. Ok, I was a bit of a weirdo, but this was a step too far, and besides, I was already talking to a boy back in England several times a day. A boy that would soon become my boyfriend. A boy that I had already started to fall for across an ocean via my iPod touch. A boy that eight years later (PDA alert) I would still be crazy, stupid, mad for.
So happy Valentine’s Day to all you LadyFaces and BoyFeatures out there. Whether you’re loving your beau, loving your gal pal, loving a bromance, or just loving yourself, love love love, and then love a little bit more.