Jan. 9th, 2008

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Today [community profile] junkyard and I took the bus downtown to the O. Henry museum. We were sitting near the back and I was going on in my let's say exuberantly stentorian way about how I've been really enjoying Doctor Who with the dead-sexy-librarian David Tennant, but that as soon as my friend Mimi e-mailed me the super-dreamy clip of the season finale of Torchwood in which Captain Jack makes out with Captain Jack I moved it to the top of my Netflix queue (which [community profile] junkyard, if anyone, can appreciate), when a gentleman in a suit turns to me and opens his mouth...

...and I'm thinking, uh oh, am I about to be yelled at for being noisy? Or for talking about boysmooches? And if it's both at once, will I affect apology (for the former) or outrage (for the latter)?

...and then he says, in lovely dopey British-accented stammer, that if I love David Tennant I should check out Casanova, and that I should also Netflix the Tom Baker episodes, and that Torchwood is indeed a wonderful show. And then he gets off the bus and leaves me a little more in love with 1. the British and 2. Austin.

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