quite some stories have already found their way into this writing forum. do not hesitate to activate your keyboard and keep us stunningly gazing on the screen.
it was one day after christmas when i took a walk off oxford street in london in order to deliver a cassette to pye records in great portland place. this was not my time making an early cold morning walk in the sunshine but duties (trying to sell my record movies to the record industry) had forced me so. after delivering a cassette at the door man of pye records - nobody else was in the company over christmas - i slendered back towards oxford street when someone turned down the window of his car asking me: "beg your pardon, sir, do you know a way out of this street?" i looked around and the street was leading to a place filled up with regular built houses in a half round crescent which also had the same looking house entrances. wherever i looked there was no way out in sight for a car. turning back to the gentleman in his fabulous jaguar limousine i said:
"can you see that door there, sir?"
"yes, what's the matter with it?"
"now, get out of you parking space, sir, kick down your gas pedal till the end, close your eyes and drive straight through that door. you will come out on the other side."
the driver switched off his engine, got out of his car and for about a minute we were walking silently together towards oxford street.
"you are not from here, aren't you?"
"how do you know" i replied.
"i am from new york"
"and why did you ask me"? i returned.
"well, somehow i was expecting that kind of answer from you and i thought it would cheer me up for the rest of the day."
