New Roxy Collins Diary Entry: ‘How Long Do I Have To Wait For A Famous Person To Return My Calls?’ #MondayBlogs #Romance #RomCom #WelshComedy

Here’s Roxy’s latest diary entry. Roxy is a thirty something, single mother, looking for her Prince Charming.

She has four kids (Matilda, 18, Harry, 12, Toby 10 & Hope 18 months), works in her mother’s coffee shop and has some wobbly bits on her hips and thighs, which no diet can get rid of.

Last week Roxy went on a date with Tom. Whilst skinny dipping in the posh hotel’s lake, someone stole their clothes, leaving them naked, freezing cold and frantically phoning Brian, Roxy’s ex-landlord, to come and rescue them. Roxy and Tom were skinny dipping in celebration of music industry mogul, Hugo Rocco, declaring in a live TV interview, he still hadn’t forgotten about Roxy’s singing voice from two years ago and that he was keen to get her into the recording studio.

Monday

9.45 A.M.

I am not going to let myself get carried away with Hugo Rocco’s TV interview.

Yes, it was a big deal, yes, he’s one of the most influential people in the music industry right now and yes, he can make or break singing dreams, but I need to keep a calm head.

9.47 A.M.

Leave 25th phone message with the same frustrated person at Hugo Rocco’s music headquarters, quickly tap out 34th Instagram DM to Hugo Rocco and copy, paste it onto my 35th Twitter DM message to him.

10.34 A.M.

Brian, my ex-landlord has just walked into ‘Coffee and a Cwtch.’  Try to forget about Brian rescuing Tom and I from our naked, skinny dipping adventure.

Reassure myself with the thought; Brian has seen me naked before. There was that dreadful incident, a few years ago, with the collapsed shower unit and I made the mistake of asking him to give me a hug, accidentally letting the strategically placed flannels fall away from my wobbly bits. On Saturday, however, it was dark, apart from that ray of silver moonlight, so Brian wouldn’t have seen much and what he did see, he probably saw it all post the shower incident.

Add ray of moonlight to my new list of things which have annoyed me.

10.45 A.M.

I have taken to hiding in the back kitchen as I can’t stop thinking about Brian’s horrified face as I staggered out of the lake and I still haven’t heard back from Hugo Rocco.

Matilda is busy making several cups of instant coffee out the back, as we still don’t have a clue on how to use the coffee machine and our customers don’t seem to know what they are drinking.

In fact a few of our new customers have gone onto Trip Adviser to say that our fresh coffee is the finest in South Wales.

“Has he messaged you back?” Matilda glances at me, whilst stirring in the sachet of instant coffee.

Shaking my head I find myself losing it and screeching, “how long do I have to wait for a famous person like him to return my calls and messages?”

Matilda nods. “Yea I know. I mean he must have millions of staff. I bet he just sits around playing Candy Crush and checking his social media.”

“Totally agree, I don’t get why it’s so hard for a famous person to get back to me.”

“Brian says he saw you and Tom in the early hours of Sunday morning,” says Matilda, opening up another sachet of instant coffee. I can feel my face starting to heat up.

Try to telepathically connect with Matilda and steer her away from a conversation about Saturday’s date. No one needs to know I was involved in a disastrous skinny dipping incident.

“He claims he saw a whole new side to you and Tom in the early hours of Sunday morning. Please tell me you are not involved in some weird love triangle with a farmer and a pensioner!”

My mother pokes her head around the kitchen door. “Where are those coffees, Matilda?” she asks. “With all the noise and steam I made at the machine just now, those American customers are gagging for their freshly made coffee.”

“Hang on, Nan,” says Matilda, giving the coffees a quick stir. She hands them through to my mother.

“Still no word from Hugo Rocco, Roxy?” My mother makes the finishing touches to the coffees.

“Nope.”

“Lazy man,” snaps my mother, “All he does all day is listen to people singing, surely he can spare a minute to phone you.”

We all nod.

“It’s not like I am asking for much..”

Matilda interrupts me. “Only a record deal.”

“I meant with him phoning me back. He started this bloody thing. It’s been two years since I went on that TV singing show.”

“And it’s not like you are harassing him,” says my mother, attending to the coffee.

Matilda laughs. “Mam’s only called him fifty thousand times.”

“Those American customers will guess that’s not real coffee,” I say, watching my mother place the coffee cups on a tray. “They know all about their coffee over there.”

“Roxy, just because you’re in a mood over Hugo Rocco, don’t start bringing the rest of us down with negative comments,” snaps my mother.

11.12 A.M.

“I would like to complain about this coffee,” says the American man, placing the half drunk coffee cup onto the counter. “That’s not freshly made coffee.”

Gasps can be heard from the queue.

11.13 A.M.

My mother acts quickly, pulling the American man into an unexpected cwtch, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to her gigantic bosom. “Shhhhh….shhhh,” she whispers, gently stroking his balding head.

I can hear hushed voices talking about our coffee.

Add American coffee lovers to my list of things that have annoyed me.

2.45 P.M.

Just left my 38th phone message to the same frustrated person at Hugo Rocco’s headquarters. He’s called Simon, works on reception, lives in London, has a young family and has only ever met Hugo Rocco once in person, in a men’s toilet, whilst washing his hands. Hugo Rocco was busy dousing his hair with hair spray.

According to Simon all my messages have been sent upstairs to Hugo’s team.

2.56 P.M.

To my horror Hugo Rocco has posted a new Instagram photo of a debut female artist, who looks about fifteen and has a voice like Beyonce.

Matilda and I stare at the young girl’s pic on his Instagram feed.

“There’s your competition, Mam,” says Matilda, taking out coffee cups from the dishwasher.

“I don’t think I am in competition with her.”

“Well, he obviously called her back,” replies Matilda, raising her eyebrows at me.

Add eighteen year old daughter to list of things which have annoyed me.

3.56 P.M.

Check the time again and all forms of social media. Reassure myself with the fact that Hugo Rocco will get back to me when he’s ready.

4.56 P.M.

Regular customer Pat has entered ‘Coffee and a Cwtch.’ Matilda and I are talking to Pat about Hugo Rocco.

Pat’s decided to try out my new extra-large latte in a mega sized cup, made with 3 instant coffee sachets out the back and some whipped cream.

“Must be hard for you, not hearing from him,” says Pat, stirring her extra-large latte.

Matilda nods. “Mam’s been a nightmare all day.”

I take out my phone to check all my emails, my DM messages and all of Hugo Rocco’s social media accounts.

“That man has the power to turn you into a star,” explains Pat. “Bet you are a bag of nerves.”

“No, I am quite calm,” I reply with an air of confidence.

Suddenly my phone starts to buzz with an unknown number. I scream ‘HUGO ROCCO!’ and to my horror the phone flies out of my hand and drops into Pat’s extra-large latte.

It stops buzzing once it has sunk to the bottom of Pat’s latte.

5.05 P.M. 

Am being walked into the kitchen by Matilda and told my loud wailing is frightening the customers.

5.15 P.M.

Add extra-large lattes, mobile phones and famous music industry moguls to my long list of things which have annoyed me.

There will be more Roxy next week!

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I am a blonde writer of romantic comedy fiction.

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