The Story of Mr. Grey and I: Part 1

Posted by Jane

It was just brought to my attention by Tilia that I had not added the back-story to the illusive Mr. Grey and I, and why it shouldn’t be, but is, complicated.

We met when I first moved to London in the fall of 2006 on the very first day of my writing course. There were only 8 of us in the class (2 were significantly past their prime and 2 were very creepy) so you can imagine the 4 fairly normal ones distinguished friendships early on.

From the very beginning, and I’m not lying, there was something about Grey that caught my eye. I don’t remember being physically attracted to him right away, and the first thing he ever said to me was some derogatory comment about my pink velvet hat, which I did not take too kindly to. To this day, I still maintain my love for hats since they add a sprig of creativity and lusciousness to any given outfit at any given time of day.

But later that day, all 20 Masters courses broke into groups to do one of those fabulously lame orientation type “get to know me games” in the main theatre. As we were split up something kept catching my eye downstage right, where Grey was falling asleep. I found this exceptionally charming. I think we were all a bit intimidated and terrified by the majority of students who were all actors. (this was a drama school)

After answering pointless polite questions about our ambitions and backgrounds and favorite television shows (which by the way should never be asked by a Masters professor-I don’t care what country you’re in) we commenced in the black box which also substitutes as a classroom and had free (very cheap) wine. As Grey, Earl, Tom and I (the 4 fairly normal classmates) all huddled up in a perfectly formed writers clique amongst all the strange acting students surrounding us, we commented on their crazy ways while chatting about plays and films.

At some point Grey and I got to talking on our own, which is when I began to fancy him. He asked me how I was finding London and said I liked it though it was hard to adjust. We suddenly realized how easy it was to talk to one another and how well our wits matched, perfectly complimenting each other. There was an ease about him, though at the same time a quirky, neurotic nature that just screamed “writer.”

His ensemble was that of a 50 year old Englishman, with a retro t-shirt covered by a tweed-like scruffy blazer, washed jeans, funny brown shoes and large rimmed glasses. His hair thick, high and even scruffier than the blazer as he endearingly scratched his head about once every minute as some sort of nervous reaction.  I realized at this time that even though he wasn’t by all means conventionally attractive, he was charming in every sense of the word in my personal dictionary and I was in danger of being smitten for life.

As the first week of school progressed, the 4 of us got closer, travelling to the pub around the corner after class and speaking of everything under the sun. But again, for some reason, Grey and I would always end up having our own conversation. And pretty soon, we would not only be having conversations amongst our group, but conversations alone together completely.

Little did I know the drama that would ensue and the trouble and trauma he would cause in the months to come…

~ by Jane on July 19, 2008.