A Night at Marilyn s
It was 11.35 and I rushed toward the tube station, desperate to catch the train on time. Embarrassingly, I tripped on the last step into the underground and was sent hurling forward into a man clutching a briefcase. I damned the high heeled shoes I was wearing under my breath and looked up curiously into the face of the man I had just run into. ?I’m so sorry? I said apologetically, only to find him laughing at the situation. ?That’s ok? he said cheerfully, ?It’s not every day I find Marilyn...