Walking down the street can be stressful in London. You never know what might hold you up. From a person trying to raise money to a “hair model” scout wanting you to donate to students who will shave half of your head, there’s always someone with something to talk to you about and eat away at your precious spare time.
As a hardened Londoner I’m well- rehearsed in the art of dodging people with leaflets on the street. But occasionally there’ll be an extreme-flyer-carrying- pest who manages to corner even us advanced-level-leaflet- dodgers.
I clocked him whilst strutting down Commercial Road, he was clocking me. Immediately, knowing I was under threat, I assumed the position: my eyes darted to the floor; I slammed my headphones over my ears and shoved my hands in my pockets as my feet quickened their pace…
But he sped up and began to walk alongside and started talking to me. No escape. Eventually I was forcibly compelled to stop and find out what he wanted.
Instantly, he was all up in my face waving his leaflet.
“Alright dude…” I replied politely. “I’m in a rush…”
“…no you’re not.” he replied, clearly nowhere near giving up talking to me.“Smile!”
“Smile?” I frowned even more. “Did you just tell me to smile?”
“I bet you look gorgeous when you smile. Go on. Give me your best smile.” He grinned.
This enraged me. How dare this silly man go round demanding that people smile??!
“Don’t tell me what to do!” I retorted. “I don’t smile for anyone unless I want to. And I certainly don’t want to smile for you.”
He ignored me and gestured to his stupid leaflet that had somehow ended up in my hands.
Man… he was good!
“Open the leaflet.” he went on.
“Stop telling me what to do!” I said.
I was really quite cross now. The breeze caused some of my hair to fall over my face. For some reason, leaflet-pest felt it was his duty to brush my curls away from my face.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” I shouted. Some shoppers turned their heads, but continued on their way.
I was helpless, trapped in a corner by a stupid touchy-feely man with a stupid leaflet – with no one to rescue me.
“You’re funny.” he said, fearlessly continuing this ridiculous charade.
“Oh, can I go now?” I pleaded.
“Open the leaflet then you can go.” he replied.
The cunning bastard…
So I opened the FUCKING leaflet.
It was covered in photos of girls posing for ‘before and after’ photos.
“I work at a salon just around the corner from here.” leaflet dude began. “All sorts of celebs come to see us and I’d like to offer you the chance to be treated to a makeover and photo shoot at half price if you sign with me today. You will go from looking well decent to amazing after our expert team are done with you.”
“I’m ok with just looking ‘well decent’ thanks.” I replied pushing the leaflet back in his hands.
“Makeovers are not my thing.”
“It’s good to try new things!” He urged, trying to hand me the blasted leaflet back. “You should always try new things. Like bum sex… have you ever tried that?”
And with that, I totally lost my Londoner-cool.
I shoved him as hard as I could across the pavement and he went flying into a group of people,his freaking leaflets scattered everywhere.
Dusting my hands I regained my composure and went on my way, smile-free, and looking WELL DECENT.
Lady Bonbon x