A modern day legend - Mr X - Account Five
"I went to London and I saw tons of people like Mr X..."
I had told a colleague about this modern day legend of a man and my growing sightings of him, he in turn had also spotted the proverbial peacock who shall remain nameless. You see, by now David and I had found out his glorious name. We'd been somewhat informally introduced to a bloke who happened to share his name with an extremely famous former boxer before he converted to a religion that rhymes with 'jar of jam'.
Anyway, just as I had been amazed by his bewildering spectacle so, too, had my colleague - we had laughed heartily at his beguiling uniqueness and I don't care what my colleague claimed - there were not tons of people like him in our nations capital. No way. However, my friend in his defence had been staying in and around the Soho vicinity so, perhaps, he had a point. But I still didn't want to accept that there could potentially be others like our main man in Liverpool. My brain wasn't ready for that kind of mental imagery.
Mr X, as I have started to discover has a captivating way with the ladies. Bamboozling them with his array of physical paraphernalia and eye watering tight trousers. One smarmy tip of that tall (like statuesque) top hat and the ladies start jabbering away breathlessly to the sound of pulsating drums. I've witnessed it with my very own eyes. I caught him in a bookstore coffee shop area with a pretty young woman and she appeared stupidly captivated just as David and I had been when he entertained us in that evening class.
Mr X, from my point of view is using and has been using his sui generis ways to probably lure females back to his rumoured wild circus haven of exotic parrots and Polish dwarves in panty hoes saddling Shetland ponies whilst a slow carrousel of music plays on loop as he theatrically minces about (topless) whispering 'oh la la' to the bevy of memorised women.
To be continued...
Demola, TCC
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