I kneeled and picked a few black berries from a branch.It looked as if it was succumbing to the power of gravity. I opened my hand and offered her some. She smiled and like an innocent child eloquently picked 3. “No, take another one; there’re eight” with a smile I said; “ok” with a smile she said.
It is mid-day in Alexandra park palace London where a food festival is taking place. There’re a plenty of mixed variety food; BBQ pulled pork, Jamaican Hot Dogs, Greek Souflakis, old beetle turned ice cream cars, beer stands, crepes to kill for, beef briskets and many others; you’d wish you were a cannibal with an elephant like appetite.
There’s a girl having a bite sat with a hunched back; while sipping out of a plastic see through cup something which looks like Guinness, her companion is starring into the nothingness of the day ahead.
A 100 feet away to the right is a young kid looking in between the flowers; he’s intently eyeing a bee; she’s milking out her daily dose of honey while a bunch of middle aged men walk down the park with a Jug full of what looks like a cocktail with ice and orange slices dancing along the cadence of their steps.
Two young boys are running and chasing one another and “Heeeeeeeeeey, Sigo Sigo, Ayora, Quee” echoes around me from a group of a latino like picnickers bursting with joy.
Music is playing behind my back, having turned my head around; I could see a one pony tailed man band playing a guitar; singing country.
Few meters away an authentically C.Chaplain like old fella time traveled me back to the 50’s era; He is sat down on a stool and playing an old record on an old back-up recorder while a boy and a girl dance their sunny day to the music in cheer flattering joy.
The park is on a high point in altitude; to my left just beyond the Jacket potato food stand I can see half of London but a diamond shaped tree wouldn’t let me enjoy the other half.
The young kid who was watching the bee earlier just appeared in front of me with a “stay back 200 feet” logo printed on the back of his shirt.
There’s a guy feeling the sides of his partners body and another with a jack sparrow kind of hat playing football with a young girl dancing her day to the rays of heaven while the sun is playing hide and seek in between passing planes and cotton fluffy clouds.
My left leg got numb.
A bird is flying following and chasing another of its kind heading towards nowhere while a pretty girl with french looks dressed in a white transparent blouse and a tight navy jeans, is checking her phone and missing out on the birds chase and I could barely see the tip of her socks.
Earlier today at the bus stop, a girl on tinder and I became a match. As I am a novice never to become a veteran smart phone user, my second message after “Hi” was “Would you like to come to the park, there’s a food festival and some ice cream in here?” to my surprise, from a frustrating experience using the app for some time and after an hour or so of tindering her thoughts against her fears of thinking I was a London bone collector, she said ok.
“Listen! I have a problem; I can’t swim, no books no movies and no idea who David is”
She texted me on her way; I laughed “You’re funny” I said when I felt the day is about to become one with the most fun in weeks.
Synopses: ” I am a writer and aspiring journalist; Looking to meet someone who enjoys a Woody Allen like walk and a chat. If you happen to be a Larry David enthusiast we’re a great match. If you run swim cycle read or write we’ll have lots to do and talk about; I am a 90’s old fashioned person with an approach of what Elvis once said ‘A little less conversation; a little more action please‘ ” reads my tinder profile.
“I am here by the steps” she texts, too shy to call I didn’t want to impose and call “There are two set of steps, waive” I text;
After a few ether texting I saw her.
A fact: I am too scared of women; I am terrified to approach a woman for a first time and ask her out for a drink. The thought of kissing a girl is always there in my imagination reaching its peak a minute before I fall sleep at night.
She took the berries and we carried on walking into the woods; sometimes it’s only the sound of leaves dancing with the wind, sometimes the rain would add its rhythm but our foot steps would complete the orchestra.
“How does one know for a fact if they like someone they see for the first time?” I carefully and selectively execute a question in the subtlest romantic way possible. She looks at me with an Italian designed smile on a pair of what appears to be the softest most tender cheeks “I don’t know” she says in shyer.
The building up of the voice in my head “I want to hold your hands” is taking control of my speech and thinking ability; I already lost control to the sounds of the trees and the singing of the birds but the burbling water alleys running underneath the gravel path gave me a green go ahead signal to make a move.
A lake appears at a distance on our path of tranquility; I steer the wheels of my feet with much effort as the nervous system was not responding as it once did.
Starring into the lake I slow my erratic pace; we step up on a wooden stand; I over work my brain to deliver the thoughts into my mouth and then on to her
“Can we kiss?”
The leaves starts a vigorous dance, the wind picks up its speed and gusts in every direction, the birds hurries to their nests and my heart races;
“Ok” she says and the journey of my life suddenly becomes excitingly beautiful.
I approach; trying to keep my balance like a baby’s first time on his feet; I touch her tummy with my finger tips, my eyes close and our lips touch.
The world stops.
My name is Sherif; I am a dayenjoyer.
Thanks for reading.
-Feature image Instagram @dayenjoyer