A couple enter the cafe I’m sitting in.
“Well, that was the very interesting thing…” he says.
They walk past my table.
“The only real…”
The sound of a song I know pulls my ears away from them and to the expectation of Lianne La Havas and her vocals. But it’s not her. It is exactly her instrumental, her introduction. Without her. Where is she? Does she know about this? Who is this man singing? It irritates me.
“You know the guy”
Spanish sounds
“I don’t wanna be with you”
Laughter
“Fills my heart with doubt”
The song is terrible, unlike Lianne La Havas’. It is her song. Which one?
The couple. What was interesting? The very interesting thing? They…
I can’t concentrate. I re-download the Shazam app on my phone and tap to hear who it is: Peter Lake. Stones.
Later I plan to see if Lianne La Havas is aware of the situation
(Green and Gold, that’s the song, her song)
If it’s like when Dido did that thing with Eminem
(Stan and Thank You. You’re welcome.)
Later I plan to do lots of things
And mostly I never do them
Maybe today will be different
I think that most days
And mostly it isn’t
But sometimes it is
At least a bit different
Like I do one of the things
Or a step towards one of the things
But often not quite fully the thing exactly when I thought I would do it
in the way I thought it should be done.
The couple wear white, cream, ensembles of beige
But not in a beige way
In the opposite of a beige way
In a way that makes me think they could be famous
They speak in English
She reads out the WiFi password
Her glasses are thick, black rimmed
She must’ve read it out wrong
“What’s the password?” she says
She looks over at the laminated poster on the wall again
“Is that a J or a 3”
She stands up, walks towards me, towards the poster, maybe she will see I am writing in English, writing her.
The illusion of stylish Americanism is shattered by English accents
and an inability to manage technology.
Silver trainers
Pale yellow jumper
Not so beige
They are in
They are both in
Not in vogue, but into the WiFi
They hold their phones together, touching at the tips
“It’s going round and round”
“It’s my usual”
English speaking, as I know it, as it sounds back home, is a rarity for me now
unless on a Zoom call.
But to see my own, walking and talking, amongst me
Feels like being on a safari
And makes me want to observe them in their unusual habit,
with their overly usual to me sounds and mannerisms,
in their we-are-on-holiday attire.
“Oh, I am sorry”
“No, no, no”
“Lovely bedding”
Jack Johnson, no need for Shazam
“It’s always better when we’re together”
“Oh, I bet it’s not the USB”
“A much smaller item”
“Brings new things”
Spanish sounds
Coffee sounds
Jack Johnson sounds
“All of these dreams might find their way into my day-to-day scenes”
“So many things we got to do”
“Vale”
“Buenos días chicas”
“De nada, de nada”
“That’s a pound”
“And they sent me away”
“And then when I had the opportunity again, I was too old”
“Shall we leave then?”
His trousers are dark, maybe blue, maybe black, I’ve taken my glasses off.
“Thank you”
“You’re welcome”
The waitress speaks English. How did I not know this?
“Bye.”
Later, I don’t look up whether Lianne La Havas is aware of the Peter Lake song.
In fact, many weeks pass. And it is forgotten.
Then I decide to finally start a Substack. To do one of the things I keep saying I will do. A Substack. This Substack. Conversation Collage. To make space for myself to share some of my thoughts, observations, writing. Taking inspiration from what I see, hear, and experience in my day-to-day scenes (as Jack might sing). Capturing what is brought into my focus in those moments, the spaces between them, and the places where they all seem to overlap.
In the typing up process, I remember my plan to get to the bottom of the song dilemma. And decide to do something about that too. It turns out, I am not the only one:
I have no idea how to tell her either.
I try to find meaning in it all. To my having noticed it, having written about it. I think about the differences between being inspired by something and taking it as your own and the blurry bit between. My writing here, I hope, will be inspired by and respectful to what I see, hear, observe, in a way that creates something new. I’m not sure what form future posts will take. But, for now, the very interesting thing is that I’ve started. With thanks to the couple in beige, but not in a beige way.