Stella’s Dream Valentine’s Date
Today on the book tour for Stella Newman’s brand new book ‘The Dish’, Stella talks about her dream Valentine date.
I’m not sure if this refers to my dream man or my dream activity, but it’s my dream so I guess I’ll do both!
The man? I wouldn’t say no to Jamie Dornan, and I have a keen, ongoing interest in Ed Norton, but ultimately it all comes back to Michael Fassbender. Realistically I’d be happy just to hole up in my bedroom with him, eating penne carbonara in bed and then getting it on. However, that does not make for good copy. Well, perhaps erotic / filthy copy but I’ll leave that stuff to E L James.
So…I guess our date would have to maximise the opportunities for me to be seen out on a date with Michael Fassbender. Ideally there’d be my old school reunion happening that night. But failing that, we’d drive round to my evil ex boyfriend’s house in West London, then walk back and forth outside his house until he spotted us. “Ooh, hiya Mark! Fancy seeing you here! Oh right, yes, I’d totally forgotten that you lived here, anyway you must meet Michael, – oh, you recognise him from that movie where he played a guy who’s brilliant at shagging? Yeah, yeah – same guy”.
Then, having ticked off the most important entry of all time on my bucket list, Fassbender and I would go back home, cook pasta and then move slowly, languidly towards the bedroom, shedding clothes as we… Oh right, we’re meant to be doing stuff out and about, aren’t we? Ok then…Er… We’d go for a delicious dinner in town – probably to Goodman, Mayfair! We’d order cheese and bacon burgers and a bottle of great red wine –a Malbec – and after the meal Michael would stare deep into my eyes and tell me that I am at my most beautiful and elegant when I am eating fries with both hands.
Then we would move on to Hawksmoor where we would drink pints of Pina Coladas. Again, Michael would lean in close and whisper in my ear that the more strong alcohol I consume, the more charming and feminine I become.
Finally we would adjourn to the dark, slightly dank environs of Karaoke Box in Soho. Once I’d sung my show-stopping version of Wuthering Heights, (better than Kate Bush’s, superior even to Alan Partridge’s) Michael would fall to his knees, weeping with admiration and unbridled lust, and then the fun would really start.
You can buy The Dish from Amazon