I have a new addiction. It took a few listens to grow on me, but tonight I have quite seriously had this song on repeat for at least a half an hour now.
Seriously. The Temper Trap can move into my lounge room. Now.
I have a new addiction. It took a few listens to grow on me, but tonight I have quite seriously had this song on repeat for at least a half an hour now.
Seriously. The Temper Trap can move into my lounge room. Now.
A girl walks into a dimly lit room and takes a seat. She chats a little with her girlfriend seated next to her before her voice and eyes are stolen by the presence of a man. A good-looking sort of man, standing under a light, wearing the most handsome 1930′s outfit she has ever seen… She loves that era. She smiles at him, but he doesn’t see her. Her gaze follows him wherever he goes for the remainder of the night and she is lost. Completely crushing on this handsome, perfectly dressed stranger not more than a room’s distance away from her but whom she could never hope to meet.
But that’s not completely true. She does hope to meet him; to find some way of making herself known to him so that he might become just a little bit taken with her too. So, she does what any red-blooded modern-day lass would do – she goes home and google’s him! She discovers that even though he’s involved in “State” theatre, he’s actually, sadly, not from her state. YouTube shows her that even when not dressed in 1930′s attire he is not at all a shabby dresser (he wears her favourite style of shoe!), and that his natural voice is just as smooth and velvety as it was when he spoke with the perfect southern drawl he used throughout that night’s performance. Twitter informs her, very reliably, that after his last show, two night’s later, he will be leaving Adelaide for Sydney and there is no indication of when he might be coming back…
She sighs, and wonders when it was exactly, that she became a stalker.