You know what it’s like. You are in the lift heading down to check out from your hotel and a gorgeous blonde gets in on the third floor. You don’t want to stare too much at her so you focus on looking somewhere else. Nothing is said. She gets out at the ground floor, you get out at the ground floor. You go your separate ways and the “incident” disappears into memory. Mine not hers.

On this occasion I went to the checkout desk and she greeted someone who was meeting her for breakfast. Blow me down if it wasn’t my old mate Phil Smith. I called to him. They came over. He said he was now working for a new company called Ipanema and the girl was one of his colleagues over on a business trip from the Americas.

I was thrilled. I had just met “the girl from Ipanema”.  Now I can’t stop humming the tune…

That is all!

da da daa de da dada de daa