This evening, my friend Pandy called.
We chatted about all sorts - plans for the weekend, and plans for a weekend away in a couple of months with a gang of friends. We talked about pub quizzes and a lack of clean cutlery. We talked about barges and decorating and weddings and Glastonbury.
Halfway through the conversation, he remembered that there was a half bottle of wine left in his car, and he went to retrieve it, and joked on the way that I reminded him of wine.
He said that he always thought about me on sunny days, but only when he's in Streatham, and not if he's anywhere else, and that's why he'd called. Just because he thought of me.
So, he summarised, the three words that he associates with me are sun, Streatham, and wine.
We both agreed that that's not a bad combo.
Conversations with a self
3 hours ago