Paolo Nutini and I!

Not bad for a wee lad from Paisley!

And now, three albums later, the boy is well into his stride:

To cut a very long story short (and that’s a LONG story that I will NEVER get fed up of repeating to my long-suffering friends, I can ASSURE you!) he looked up at us on our balcony and I just blurted out  “can I take your photo, please?’

“Wouldn’t you prefer to come down here and have your photo taken with me?’ he smiled up at me.  Cue melting heart and middle-aged lady googley-eyed adoration.

WOULD I?!  Is the Pope a Catholic?!  Does a bear shit in the woods?! With my knees knocking and my heart pounding I ran down the stairs two at a time.  Dignity.  Always dignity.

And lo! Out he unlocked the private dining room door and emerged into the restaurant hallway, slender, floppy haired and cute as anything! He kissed me on the cheek, shook my hand, snaked his arm around my waist (I sucked my tummy in for dear life!) and my friend snapped us on her camera phone.

As per all situations that make me nervous, I began to get the ol’ verbal diarrhoea: ‘I bet you hear lots of people saying this,” I wittered, ‘but I AM a big fan and I was really disappointed not to get tickets for your Glasgow gig before they sold out.’

Then he said these immortal words: “Want me to put you down on the guest list for the Edinburgh gig?”

Reader, I might actually have let out an involuntary little ‘squee’ at that point!  And so it was that he took my name and scribbled it on a sheet of A4 from the goggle-eyed receptionists and stuffed it into his suit pocket.

But now, here’s the challenge – can I turn this into a lejit court card blog post?!  Let me try!!

Court Card insights:

On that Saturday I would say that he was a Cup or a Pentacle:  Family relationships are clearly important to him – he flew in from Germany for the party and would be flying back out there directly afterwards to continue with his tour.  


He was also exhibiting Queenly behaviour Cup or Pentacle – it was his idea to get together for the photo and to offer the tickets – caring about his fans and nurturing them too.  


But he was also very Wandsy.  Sex on legs if truth be told.  But of course, HE didn’t see himself that way in this situation; he was just being very sweet to a fan.  The Wandy thing was simply this poor old Queen of Wands getting stirred up!   So that was entirely my projection onto the situation.  A woman can dream, can she not?!

Update:  I didn’t go (I was going to see Wicked in Glasgow the following night and it was going to be a logistical nightmare, plus I didn’t think that the bit of paper would make it out of his suit pocket).  On one hand, I feel sad about missing out on the gig, but yanno what? It doesn’t really matter for “I too had my hour, one far fierce hour and sweet, there was a Nutini by my side and shaking knees above my feet.”

*apologies to G K Chesterton’s The Donkey for bastardising its lines 😀