Great love stories do not – as a rule – begin with a mobile phone. However, this isn’t strictly a love story so I think we’ll be ok.
In those halcyon days of 1999, flushed with my latest student loan instalment, I purchased my first mobile phone. Distinctly brick-esque it may have been but I loved it all the same. It had funky little pictures you could select to accompany your carefully crafted text (the days of 140 character brevity) but only if you were sending it to someone with the same phone. As a result I was pounced upon with joy with by a fellow student, QM member and slight acquaintance when she spotted we had the same phone. I knew this girl a little and to be frank she terrified me. She worked in the events team at the QM, seemed amazingly capable and got thoroughly fed up with incompetent half wit students who claimed to be in charge of the place ( we were an absolute shower, that much should be made clear). She pressed her number upon me and various nonsensical texting followed. I clearly remember talk of the manservant I kept and how he (and his unicycle) was the talk of Monte Carlo .
Nearly 12 years on and that girl is my dearest friend, my wisest counsel, my Greek chorus, my partner in crime, my kindred spirit, the extrovert to my introvert, the hardened Jack drinker to my Smirnoff Ice quaffing folly, the rock chick to my pop tart. We’ve quoted Kylie and queer theory in equal measure, discussed Corrie and literature with equal reverence. We’ve laughed, cried, got drunk (far too many times), gone shopping, gone north, gone east. It’s been the best of times and the worst of times and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.
Happy birthday Dr Thomas 🙂