Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Monday night, as I was filling my Sainsburys singleton basket with a lone fillet of salmon and some leeks and spinach, I spotted a guy I went out on a date with the night after I met the Fig. (I had hoped things would work out with the Fig, but I’m a pessimist and figured as this other date was already in the diary, I might as well go on it.)

This guy – J. – was boring, both compared to the Fig and otherwise. He also seemed to have a penchant for exaggeration and extreme editing of his life. Oh, yeah – and he was short. (I must stop pretending I can ever go out with a man who is shorter than I am – I just can’t.) Still, there he was in the chicken/meat aisle of Sainsburys, looking rather loved up with a girl who was (a) taller than him and (b) wearing an engagement ring. This was almost as bad – if not worse – as spying a guy I went on a date with in ’04 celebrating a wedding anniversary at Claridges when I was there for my birthday this year.

I did not stop, I did not pass go, I headed directly to the fake meat products aisle – J. is an avowed carnivore -- and busied myself label reading. (I bought some Quorn “pork and apple” patties that ended up tasting – and smelling – so revolting that it wasn’t enough to throw them in the trash. I actually take the trash to the curb, then open a window, and light my jasmine Diptyque candle just to get rid of the stench.)

I spent the rest of that supermarket trip with my eyes fixed firmly on the ground or at a label, lest I look up somewhere and catch his eye. What the hell was he doing in my neighborhood – never mind with what appeared to be a fiancée, and when I was looking rather crappy as I had Rudolph nose from my cold and frizzy hair from the rain? There should be a law. Oh, wait – there is one. It’s called Murphy’s.

• * *

In my continuing effort to (a) work a bit less and (b) attempt to enjoy/appreciate London, I popped to the National Gallery for a half hour yesterday. (I had to take a few calls while I was there, but at least I tried.)

There’s a guy who collects random (and sometimes stupid) things people say on the Tube – I think I might have to start doing that at art galleries. It wasn’t quite as bad as my afternoon at the Courtauld, but then again, I did put my iPod on in defense after a while.

Two women standing in front of Cezanne’s “Landscape With Poplars”: “It’s too busy-looking,” says one to the other. "Why didn't he do it in black and white?"

Male to female in front of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers: “This one is very famous.”

I’d love to hear what people say standing in front of the Mona Lisa…