Tidying up your laptop always brings you unexpected smiles.

Amongst other things, I´ve found this little tribute I wrote for the letting agent who welcomed me in London when I first arrived in July 2009. 

I wrote it the 4th of July, and here´s how it goes.

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FIRST ENCOUNTER: MONTGOMERY

Montgomery F., aka Monty, works for a property company. He likes his job. No, no. He LOVES his job. When he answers your phone calls he doesn’t talk – he sings. I can imagine him in the morning, lying in his bed with his eyes wide open, praying for the alarm clock to ring and let the day start. On his side there’s his wife Clare. She lets go a little fart everyday at 6.59 am. It’s time to wake up and smell the… coffee!

Monty has big hands, even bigger belly and rebel teeth. But here’s a funny thing – he smells terribly good. In highschool kids must have called him something like Lavender Breeze Bastard. His current friends can’t understand how he beats anyone on drinking Lager and still smells like a Lord.

Monty feels extremely fortunate to have met me. I am the client of his dreams. Monty, the flat needs cleaning. Monty, the door isn’t locking. Monty, please come, I have lots of questions for you. I’ve got so many questions that we will be discussing for hours and you’ll miss tomorrow’s Clare early fart.

Monty loves me. There is no doubt. That’s probably why I’ve been sitting here, waiting for him for hours. He must be buying me the most beautiful flowers in town. Indeed.