Story Time

Story Time: Match Made in Chelsea

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Note: Always take the classic telephone booth picture in London…but hold your breath because they smell like pee.

I’ve always been an anglophile. Raise your hand if you know what that means…nobody? Okay, here’s your SAT vocabulary lesson of the day courtesy of Merriam-Webster. An anglophile is “a non-English person who greatly likes and admires England and English things.” Essentially, I am obsessed with all things English – music, style, men, royal family, tea, humor…but not so much the food.

Now to the story…

My friend Carol (aka The Royal Peasant) and I took a quick jaunt to England so that I could keep my sanity and decompress. What is a quick jaunt you may ask…well, it was a grand total of four days. Crazy, you say? Not at all! When you’re an anglophile you will do anything for your beloved, England, and her never ending supply of handsome men with yummy accents! We couldn’t leave London without a trip to Stamford Bridge to take the stadium tour that included a stop at the men’s locker room! Just picture it…all those sexy, sweaty men with no shirts. Truly a thing of beauty!

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Carol and I practicing our poses on the field for when we become football WAGs.

After drooling over jerseys and taking an excessive amount of pictures, we obviously needed to stop by the team megastore to spend way too much money on scarves, key chains and embarrassing pictures with green screen backgrounds of us holding the cup. After having to explain to every cashier that we were from America and that yes, we did chose to come to England when it was crap weather, we were completely satisfied with our souvenirs and memories. We may not have nabbed a footballer, but we did get to walk down the same steps they take to get onto the pitch…close enough, right?

Fast forward a month…I finally decided to unpack my suitcase – mainly because I needed it to go on a different weekend trip. As I was taking out the cheesy photos we had purchased, I noticed some receipts fall out of the bag. I was about to throw them away (who even asks for receipts anymore?) when I noticed there was something scrawled on one of them. It was a telephone number from someone named Frankie*!

I immediately texted Carol to find out who this mysterious Frankie could have been. We discussed our options and came to the conclusion that it was one of three people. 1) The super cute guy from the megastore who seemed to have zero interest in why we were in London and probably writes sad songs in his diary at night 2) The man in his mid-50s who took the pictures for us and helped us choose which to order or 3) The final cashier who helped us at check-out and made polite conversation.

You must think all hope of finding out who the mystery man was gone, but never underestimate my research skills. I tried a couple methods of finding out who Frankie might be – Google search and LinkedIn seemed to be the most logical choices. However, it was Facebook that proved to be superior at creepily locating Frankie! All I did was type in “Frankie Chelsea Football Club” and BAM there he was. He was Option #3 for those of you are curious. Major take away – you should always check to make sure most of your information on Facebook is on private rather than public.

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The infamous receipt…with surprisingly nice handwriting!

I hesitated before deciding to send Frankie a message – after all, there could be multiple Frankies working for Chelsea. I sent him a picture of the note, asked if this was indeed the right Frankie, and apologized for not calling him while we were in London. A couple days later, I got a message back! Yes, it was him! Fact: I am the champion at social media “research”! He told me that he was a bit disheartened that we didn’t call him and he hasn’t left a note in a girl’s bag since. My advice to him is that nobody keeps receipts anymore so he should stop wasting paper and just ask a girl for her number or if she has plans.

Frankie and I still talk from time to time. I realized that if I had actually been smart, I would have just added him on What’sApp from the get-go because he gave me his number. But where’s the fun in that?! Frankie likes to ask when I will be coming back to England and tries to tell me I should get a job there so we can go out. Although I would love to get a job in England, it is next to impossible! Fat chance for this Match Made in Chelsea coming true. Here’s to Surviving Single!

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent ;P

 

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