It’s Not Unusual to Be Awkward When Meeting Tom Jones
Sexbombing the legendary singer in a London pub.
A typical year in London provides a smattering of warm, sunny days, as I discovered when I began flying over from the States for a new job. On one unusually sunlit trip, I noticed a large crowd spilling into the street from the door of a quaint pub next to the restaurant where we were having lunch. I asked one of my British colleagues why so many people were drinking at a pub in the middle of a Wednesday. He looked at me as if he had serious reservations about my intellect and told me matter-of-factly it was because the sun was shining.
After relocating to London, I quickly embraced the habit of rushing to terraces, pubs, and parks at the slightest hint of summery conditions, and this is how I got weird with the legendary singer Tom Jones.
There was a charming little pub around the corner from my Kensington flat called The Elephant and Castle, a small Victorian pub with a tiny terrace wrapping around the outside. It became my regular a few months after moving into the neighborhood.
Kensington and Chelsea brim with recently relocated immigrants looking to build their careers in London. The Elephant was a hub of international comradery and where I met one of my closest friends — a brilliant guy from…
