Accept Me or Except Me

On the airplane, I looked out of the window and pretended I was in a romantic comedy or a music video for a ballad about a broken relationship. I was listening to the few songs on the built in computers that were actually bearable. There was one computer on each seat, so while I was listening to some ballad to fit my mental music video, Matt was there next to me, laughing his ass off at some comedy movie.

It was surprisingly easy to get the tickets and get through the airport security compared with my expectations. It’s the next bit that’s going to be tricky. Getting the tickets may have been easy, but it did test my patience. The nearest time we could book was three weeks after the date of booking. That is if we wanted to get cheap seats. We did. The thing that made it so tricky was the fact that Laurence could be anywhere on the British Isles by now, and that’s assuming he hadn’t already flown back to America. At least Danny has some use on this quest.

I jumped as Nicky Minaj’s voice started creeping through my eardrums. I must’ve accidentally tapped the shuffle button. I frantically tapped the screen all over trying to get ‘Beez in the Trap’ out of my head. By the time the music cleared, it was too late. The song was stuck in my mind. Oops

The plane landed in Heathrow without much fuss. That is, until Matt saw a scratch on his suitcase.

“OH MY GOD what is wrong with the people here? I saw the luggage men through the window, just throwing my stuff around like it’s some sort of meaningless … burning … thing.”

He never was good with similes. We were sitting for a moment near the entrance of the airport since we’d just collected our bags from the carousel.

“It would be fun if we were on the conveyor belts instead of the luggage,” said Matt, entrepreneur of the century.

I rolled my eyes and proposed that we head to find a nice, black, stereotype fueling London taxi. He agreed immediately and followed me out onto the noisy street. It was kind of like what I expected New York to be like, except everything was just so <i>British</i>. There were people everywhere. They all looked busy, but I couldn’t get my head around the fact that <i>everyone</i> here, almost, has a British accent. At one point some hot guy came by in a business suit, talking to someone on his cell phone with his sexy accent of his. It gave me chills.

When we got to the hotel, we dropped everything and slept, due to jetlag. Man, this holiday was going to be fun. I wonder what British chocolate tastes like.

* * *

Hughes. That’s what we were looking for, the Hugheses. Trouble is, there are so many people with that last name in this country alone! Matt and I were at the front lobby (or, as someone called it, the foyer) looking through the Yellow Pages for some inclination of where Laurence might be. Nothing. Well, to be more precise, there was something. Trouble was, instead of there being too little information, there was too much. Short of going to every single Hughes residence in Wales, or the whole island for that matter, we were stuck.

With nothing better to do, Matt and I decided to go shopping, so we hit Oxford Street. We spent the afternoon going through store after store, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Danny. How was he coping? Did he have friends to go back to without me? What if something were to happen to me, or if we broke up? Who would Danny go to?

We were in a T K Maxx (which was weird, since they’re called T J Maxx in my great homeland of America) and Matt was looking at some clothes that had been released for a charity called Comic Relief.

“Look at this! Is that Marilyn Monroe? Wearing a clown nose?”

“Yes, well done Matt,” I said, not impressed.

“Look! It’s Mr Bean! Except he’s wearing old timey clothes. And a clown nose!”

“So it is.”

We browsed a bit more, but at the end of the day I was exhausted. I was tired of beating around the bush and I couldn’t focus. It’s not nice being apart from the one you love.

“I’m still knackered from the jetlag. I think it’s time to go back to the hotel,” I said suddenly.

“Using British lingo already, I see? I also think it’s time to go back. I think that desk lady likes me.”

“Aren’t we here looking for the love of your life?” I asked, confused.

Matt walked straight past me and onto the busy street. He walked backwards in front of me and waved his arms dramatically. “Are you honestly saying you’re going to stop me from having fun in the sexiest place on Earth?”

“That’s Paris, moron,” I snickered. “I just don’t think it’s good for you to get attached to other people so quickly. I mean, you’ve only just met Laurence, but you should stick with him. He’s a good guy.”

He returned to walking by my side. He hooked his arm through mine. If he had done this a couple of months ago, I would’ve shaken my arm away, but I stayed put.

“I didn’t say it was going to get sexual or even intimate. A good old fashioned flirt never hurt anyone.”

“Never hurt anyone single you mean.”

“I am tired of you being so right all the time. Isn't this the time when we’re meant to be reckless? The time when we’re allowed to make mistakes without anyone holding our hands?”

“I guess,” I resigned.

“Well then, Lee,” he stopped me and turned me so I faced him. The sea of people were awkwardly walking around us with annoyance in their faces. Suddenly, Matt grabbed my ears and brought me in for a good, five second kiss. “That was for past Matt. Now I want to find present Matt, and Laurence may or may not be for future Matt.”

“Let me get this straight,” I said quickly, trying to catch up with Matt, who had started walking again. “You’re breaking up with Laurence?”

“We were never really going out. I don’t know. Maybe I just want to be single while I can, while I’m young. Laurence is just too good, y’know? He might be the one. He could be Mr Right. It’s just I’m not looking for Mr Right at the moment. I’m looking for an adventure.”

Woah. Shit just got deep.