Dudley Do-Wrong and the Yankee in London

Piccadilly Circus, 2004 -- I made it in one piece!

Yaaaaay! I arrived safely into Heathrow Airport! My plane ride, smooth and most of my fears about flying quieted by my faithful companion, Jack Daniel’s®. 🙂 If only going through customs had been equally as pleasant; Instead of the “Where are you going?” inquiry that I received with suspicion from airport security in New York,  I was now getting from the “unwelcome wagon”, also known as a disgruntled, female immigration officer, “Why are you here, in the United Kingdom?” I responded, “To find a date” (I really was going to say that my search was for a “husband”, but thought, she might consider that some sort of illegal ploy to stay in her country.) She then gave me the “stink-eye of death” and let me pass (the WRETCH).

(So, anyway…)

Trafalgar Square

I happily hopped into a humongous cab that could’ve probably held my old studio apartment in Spanish Harlem and jetted off to my hotel, located of off “The Strand“, a historical street in the borough of Westminster.

In the lobby of the hotel, waiting to greet me, was an amorous, Italian concierge, with the temperament of “Pepe Le Pew“, who would keep offering his “personal assistance” by way of my hotel room… undoubtedly wanting more than a tip. More


My Near-Death, NY Post Blind Date with the Professor!


With an unsuccessful record in the love department and a dubious future with a “man~child”, *Eastern-European drummer from the country of Georgia… 16 years my junior (*more to come in another post), my friend suggested that  I submit an “application for romance”  (haha) to be a contestant in the New York Post’s “Meet Market Dating Game“. Surprisingly, I was called in for an interview, given a photo-session and became one of three “bachelorettes” to be on stand-by for a possible rendezvous with one of the paper’s featured, eligible males intended to pluck one of we ladies, fresh for the pickin’. Well, I stayed planted in the field garden of media-dating for a few months and was about to ~finally~ have the tables turned in my favor so that I, the unchosen, could do the choosing myself when “Paul, the Professor”, with obvious EXCELLENT taste, selected me.

There’s nothing like free food and having a newspaper volunteerily flip the bill to stalk me on a date with a nice guy. Too bad, this flower was nearly wilted and put six-feet under by a poisonous fertilizer called, “nuts”!

Here’s the cute, edited version that made the press on February 1, 2009:  Nut So Good

Here’s my side of what really happened, as explained in the follow-up:


E-mail to Jennifer Tis of the New York Post:

January 25, 2009, 4:47 PM

Things got a little nutty with the professor!

I should’ve taken heed to the foreshadowing of our date when More

hEiDi’s Words of Wisdom (from Personal Experience)…

“Never wear a bootleg weave on a windy day.”

Flashback e-mail to friends, March 30, 2000… 41 days after leaving South Florida to begin my adventures in New York City (no, I am NOT a native Floridian):

I’ve had the most traumatic experience, trying to conceal my “RENT-a-HAIR” during a virtual typhoon that I’ve been forced to go back to my natural beauty. I figured that I would try being incognito with a new hairstyle to see if my groupies 🙂 would recognize me, and of course, they did.

Anyway, I’m either going to stick with the whole Macy Gray, wind-blown hair look (how appropriate) or rock a completely different “do” and cut it all off, and do something funky with it. We’ll see…

Ta, ta!!


It took three more years for me to learn my lesson…

© 2010-2011 Heidi Rodney-Nakanishi and ChocolateGeisha Spills the Sake!          All images are copyrighted by their respective authors.

© 2010-2020 Heidi Rodney-Nakanishi and ChocolateGeisha Spills the Sake!™ All images are copyrighted by their respective authors.

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