When good neighbours become good friends...
A couple of weeks ago I was sitting on the grassy knoll behind the Royal Vauxhall Tavern soaking up the sun. A man leaned over and said, "I think you're my neighbour." Sure enough it turns out we live next door but one to each other. Since then we have bumped into each other everywhere; in clubs, bars, on tube journeys and in the street. We haven't quite worked out who is stalking who yet. Hello Richard!
overyourhead - some irreverent musings by a gay London guy - crawling though technology, love and life... so you don't have to.
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