So my friend Kipling and I are walking down Robson Street minding our own business and low and behold there’s Hugh Cornwell adjusting himself behind a large window at HMV.

We considered skipping this mini solo performance at first since we were going to see him play later that evening anyway, but since there were only about 15 people standing around we thought we should take advantage of the opportunity. Besides, while I never mentioned it to Kip, there was a small part of me that thought maybe, just maybe, he’d take one look into my eyes and know that it was meant to be. Of course Rod might have a problem at first with this new scenario but he would soon come to understand that it is Hugh Cornwell after all.

He played a few songs, none of which I really remember, not because he did a bad job or anything (they were great!) but because I’m not used to feeling 16 anymore and was a tad distracted.

After he finished the set, he signed some autographs and me not having anything I felt worthy of his signature (and after being coaxed by Kip) decided my leg would be an appropriate surface.

Note how it’s signed up my thigh? *sigh*