Looking for summer love......

[emc]

No, not me (though wouldn't mind!)

I work on a women's mag and am putting together a piece on love for one of our summer issues and am looking for people who have a great love story to tell with a summer theme to it...e.g you met on holiday/doing something over the summer months, etc, etc.....

Please, no advice/abuse from would-be journalist forumites - it's a genuine request and I'm just doing my job!

Ta

[Tony.London Suburbs]

Bit of a slow-burner, thus far...

[????]

"adoooooba dooooba

Tell me more tell me more like does he have a car" etc

[Brendan]

Summer my arse.

[HonaloochieB]

You're very welcome to use my story, but please employ pseudonyms, Tug and Nora preferably. Also Billy-Ray would like to be known as Gavin.

It was a hot afternoon on the last day of June and the sun was a demon. The clouds were afraid 110 in the shade, I seem to recall the pavement was steaming.

I told Billy-Ray in his red Chevrolet I needed time for some thinking. I was just walking by and when I looked in her eye and I swore it was winking. She was 31 and I was 17 I knew nothing about love and she knew everything and I sat down beside her on the front porch swing and wondered what the coming night would bring.

The sun closed her eyes as it climbed in the sky and it started to swelter, the sweat trickled down the front of her gown and I thought it would melt her.

She threw back her hair like I wasn't there and she sipped on a julep, her shoulders were bare and I tried not to stare when I looked at her two lips.

And when she looked at me I heard her softly say "I know you're young you don't know what to do or say but stay with me until the sun has gone away and I will chase the boy in you away".

And then she smiled and we talked for a while and we walked for a mile to the sea we sat on the sand, and a boy took her hand but I saw the sun rise as a man.

Thirty five years have gone by since I looked in her eye but the memory lingers. I go back in my mind to the very first time and feel the touch of her fingers and I go back to that a hot afternoon on the last day of June and the sun was a demon.

The clouds were afraid 110 in the shade and the pavement was steaming...

[woofmarkthedog]

Oh lorks...

Does anyone take anything serious on here (no, not really....good )

Ok,I did know a tortoise who searched for years up & down the garden looking for "love" sadly nobody recognised his (turned out to be her)relentless love march until it was too late.....even for a tortoise she was to old, the clock had ticked by and she was left on the shelf, well actually a box in the shed covered in newspaper & stuff.

Soo sad, there must be a movie in there i'm sure. Timothy Spall could play the lead, then swap with Kathy Lett (y'know ol' wossa name.. Waynetta, yeah!) They'd be in giant shells ....and well you figure that stuff out

I've given you the bones of it, god next y'want me to write it......I mean your the Journo/screenwriter aren't you?

Come on lazy bones get on with it , whens the film coming out then?

W**F

*Balances ruler on pencil....ahem*

[bigbadwolf]

This takes me back to the days when I worked for an Export company that was truly universal in it's services, sometimes secret.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

In the hot summer of 61 I was sitting on the balcony of my small yet salubrious Mayfair rooms finishing my second pot of coffee when a letter arived with an all too familiar post mark. The content was startlingly blunt in that I was instructed to pack my travel case and depart for Havanna as soon as possiblely convenient. On arriving at Heathrow I was delighted to discover that HR had laid on a charter aircraft for my hop across the Atlantic. The flight itself was, although fashionable, frightfully boistrous. The captain notified me that we were about to cross Florida and we should be landing shortly. I was aware that Cuba was a communist state and had become a little too cosy with Khrushchev lately so had come to think of all socialist countries as rather dull yet sinister climbs but the vista of the Cuban coast that greated us put right any assumtions I held.

I'd seen grainy images of the Carribean from school text books on the empire but in the flesh the landscape was beautifully alien. Lush forests dotted with Topaz lagoons invited the aircraft to land into the islands exotic embrace.

The native airport was exactly what I'd imagined. Hot, sweaty and livestock everywhere. In my brief I was told I was to be greated by a Cuban counterpart who would be identifiable by a carnation on their attire. I scanned the eclectic crowd of travellers, peasants and taxi drivers for my floral beacon of calm.

That's when I saw her.

Her radiance electrified all that she was, an Amazonian Godess. "Come, We must go, others are waiting". I could see the lightning behind her dazzling eyes and sensed the thunderstorm in her hips as she strode out towards our awaiting vehicle. Throughout the journey she and the driver spoke only in Spanish which left me to my imagination which, as you can imagine, was having an all too public effect in my most sensetive department. Eventually we arrived at my hotel and the driver took my belongings to my room and then left. I deposited my belongings in my room and allowance in the hotel safe and made preparations for the next days excursion into the mountains. My mind was still racing with unholy thoughts of my opposite number. So ferverant were these images that I retired to the bathroom to 'calm down'. After this I decided on a light dinner.

She was still there.

A lump formed in my throat and another started forming elsewhere that I quelled with memories of boarding school. We exchanged a few pleasantries and she inquired upon my reason for being in Havanna. This took me by surprise I'll admit that to this day I still wonder why I told her I was in the business of selling vacuum cleaners, it sort of blurted out.

She told me that she'd never met an Englishmen and wanted to see if the rumours were true. We went for seafood and it was delicious. We then went dancing and I was introduced to what they call a Mojito. It's a rather homosexual affair that involves the infusion of mint leaves with Lime cordial and Rum, most bizarre.

We ended up back at my hotel and she'd transformed from a calm sea of desire to a wanton maelstrom of lust. Normally I like to offer a lady the option of Gin and tonic but she bluntly stated she'd rather leave the lights on. Now that certainly put some wind in my sails as I'd been aching to see her as nature intended all night.

What happened that night will remain in my 'bank' for the rest of my life. We did things that the church would excommunicate us for and that satan would reward us.

I never saw again after that night but I heard she ended up with some scruffy anarchist and that they were killed in Bolivia.

[blah]

someone I knew copped off with a ginger haird NZ girl at a drizzle spattered barbeque in White City,June 1990.later , he infected his real GF with the same strain of Herpes that the Kiwi was carrying.he said he caught it off a toilet seat. She dumped him.

[Brendan]

Why does that always have to come up?

[blah]

becasue it is true

[bigbadwolf]

More like.

I copped off with a ginger haired NZ girl at a drizzle spattered barbeque in White city,June 1990.Later, I infected my real GF with the same strain of Herpes that the Kiwi was carrying. I said I caught it off a toilet seat. She dumped me.

The 'my mate' or 'someone I met on holiday' routine never fools anyone.

If you'd named/shamed the source of this tale as Snorky we may have believed you.

[blah]

I have told some porkies, but this is 100% true.

It may have Shephereds Bush actually.

[bigbadwolf]

Really.

[blah]

yes.really.

Unlike some of the production mill bollocks that will appear in the Mag of the OP " After the split from my husband of 52 years, i though I have found love with a handsome 17year old turkish waiter in Bodrum. It all changed after he got his UK Visa and turned into a scheming love rat" etc

Emc - you said no advice, but lets face it, if you cant fabricate a handful of stories of this type of shite in a few houirs and keep the readership happy, then you should be in another line of work.

[Jeremy]

The NZ girl had Shepherds Bush? Now that *does* sound painful.

Always use protection.

[Tony.London Suburbs]

Sherpherds Bush is the only London Underground Station where the same place has 2 totally seperate lines and Stations.

[Ted Max]

Me: A sensitive boy, woefully miscast on a lads holiday taken at the end of the our final school term.

Him: Our hostel owner's weepy-eyed retriever.

Long walks along the coast in the day, while the lads hit the sangria, fostered the bond. Long al fresco evenings spent reading M?rquez out loud cemented it. The phone call home to find out that my grades had only merited Keele crystalised my plan. To elope. And write.

As the Monarch Air flight touched down the next day, I knew I had already abandoned my future.

[PeckhamRose]

I met MrPR through an ad in Time Out 20 years ago this August.

I placed the ad and got 88 replies.

I lined up five of 'em.

MrPr was number 3.

Morning after meeting him I rang up numbers four and five and told them sorry but not worth meeting as I have met my man.

True story.

And if you PM me I will tell you what my advert was (it was a GREAT line and spoke nothing of my eye colour or 'GSOH' or astrological sign but you have to promise not to put it on here!)

[Andystar]

My tale of summer love has been immortalised in song

it out

[HonaloochieB]

...well wouldn't you like to know.

[Tony.London Suburbs]

Els vd Schultz (sp) where are you now ?

p.s. I loved you, for a fleeting fortnight but your name will live with me forever...

[emc]

Dear Blah,

re your comment - well this feature has now long gone but as the 'case histories' (as we call them in the trade)in it are identified and pictured you can't really fabricate them. And I'm bloody excellent at my job thanks very much - ta for insightful comments though, much appreciated.

[blah]

emc Wrote:

-------------------------------------------------------

> Dear Blah,

>

> re your comment - well this feature has now long

> gone but as the 'case histories' (as we call them

> in the trade)in it are identified and pictured you

> can't really fabricate them. And I'm bloody

> excellent at my job thanks very much - ta for

> insightful comments though, much appreciated.

come back soon

[emc]

Ooo, I will do. You obviously have a wealth of knowledge about the profession...will run any future ideas past you.

ta

[blah]

.