Jammy Taylor


Written – whilst on United Airlines 56 to San Francisco 

You know, I like to think of myself as a bit of an old romantic at heart. I love a little rom-com at the movies. Love a cuddle and a candle lit steak and sometimes will even send flowers; especially if I think it will aid my chances of scoring.

Last year in Cannes I’d sometimes in-between playing my Abba and sleeping, go down to the steps at the beach and sit with a packet of haribo bears and watch the world go by; day dreaming about one day meeting the girl of my dreams and what she’ll be like?

Would she be blonde or brunette? Would she try and make me have sex outside again and try and get us caught. (I hope not, I was scared stiff last time) Would she double check the door for me when we leave the apartment, if we were low on hand soap would she just go out and buy some more without being asked. Would she learn to love and support West Ham. Actually that’s not a deal breaker, as long as she’s not a Tottenham fan. (sorry Em)

And of course, how all of a sudden she will pop into my life?

I mean I must admit at times, I have gone looking for it and that’s when you never find it. Hovering around the frozen peas in Waitrose. At airports whilst trying to blag an upgrade (or at least an exit row), trying to get myself a hot stewardess, numerous nightclubs, facebook, even the girl at the clinic gave me her number, but no; she wasn’t the one either. Nice girl though.

Maybe I just needed to go back to basics, be more romantic, not look for it and it would find me.

Anyway, I’m going to take you back a year now, until last August, I was djing all summer long at the World Famous Hotel Martinez in Cannes. I was coming near the end of my stay, with about 3 weeks to go and  was starting to come out of my shell abit.  I found this cute little sushi restaurant for lunch, I made a couple of good friends and was even being a little more daring with my music. I played a song by the guy who formerly called himself prince (I know, get me!!)

So, the story begins. I think it was a Tuesday, although I can’t be sure, I awoke to find this envelope had been passed under my door. I was a little apprehensive at first as I though the hotel had reengaged on a deal to cover my washing and had send me a bill but no, I was wrong. As I opened it up, I appeared to be a love letter, of course it was all in French and I still don’t speak at dime, so I couldn’t be sure but it was sealed with a big red lipstick kiss, so I kinda got the gist, but how romantic!!

Wow, at once I came off facebook, had a shower, put on my speedos and ran to find Florance my bar manager friend to have her translate to me.

It read, “Monsieur James, I’ve noticed you around, I think you are a wonderful DJ, I’ve never felt this way about any DJ before, I have a house somewhere in France I think you should come stay with me. I’ve been watching you everyday now and I just know we would be perfect together”. (I mean, No Joke, this shit is real!)

But she never said who she was or gave any contact info, not even and address to reply back too, I didn’t know who she was. I mean; I like a little mystery and I don’t mind playing a few games at the start of our relationship but if this really was to be the girl of my dreams, I had to see her!

I mean she sounded perfect, own place, must have had a bit of cash flow behind her to be cruising around Cannes all summer, obviously liked Abba if she thought I was the best Dj ever. Why was she being such a little Multeaser like that??

Anyway this went on for a week or so, letter after letter under my door.  I was hoping that one day she would knock and say hi, but also how the hell did she know my room number, maybe she had someone on the inside?

Until one day Florence translated to me that, this would be the night she would come and introduce herself to me.

As you can imagine, my heart skipped a beat.  I was so excited. I could hardly wait till 6pm to start my set, I was in such a good mood. I even played man in the mirror again for the guys behind the bar for the humteenith time, I was in that gooda mood. I had been there 50 odd days already by now.

Florence came over with a little Pina Calorda to settle my nerves and I started to get into the rhythm of the evening. With every new person that came in the bar, thinking;  “is that her?”

Lots of cute little hotties were coming in, I was thinking, could it be, but no, no one approached me, time was going by now, the Maratchi band they had hired for the summer along with me and done there set, I had my steak dinner and was just about to return to work for the graveyeard shift when I get a tap on the shoulder.

Now I like an older Woman, just as much as I like and younger woman, or a little 18 year old but she was old; Face like a leather bag that had been run over my a double decker bus, no really! Scraggy long blonde hair that looked like it had never been washed, actually that part I was fine with; I don’t wash my hair either. And these great big claw like fake nails and the biggest teeth I’ve ever seen in my life, protruding from her face! Ahhhhhh! It was not a pretty sight.

“Hello James,  I’m Jacqueline”

My god, what had I done to deserve this, who had I pissed off up above?

I was polite and went to give her a kiss on the cheek and the cheeky little thing attempted to catch me on the lips with her tongue out.

With that I made my excuses and said hold on; I had to start my set, running off to the safety of my decks backing off like how the bird in Alien did from the Alien. 

She was one scary human being.

Florence comes over laughing at me with another Pina Colarda, a large one, asking who my hot date was; who by now was sipping a cocktail at the bar a few meters away grinning at me.  There wasn’t even anywhere I could go, I had to stand there and play Abba, I was stuck with her just staring at me. It was the strangest thing in my life.

At least if you meet a bird off facebook and she doesn’t look like her pictures as she gets of the train, you can do a runner before she sees you, but no, I was stuck there.

I didn’t even go back to talk to her, I just kept on motioning to her, a few more minutes and I submerged my head back behind the screen of my laptop, doing what I could to make myself look busy.

2am finally arrived with her still there watching me, I waved sort of goodbye and with that was off like a shot to my room, locking and even putting the security catch on my door to protect me. Barricading the bottom with packets of baby wipes and the coffee table.

Maybe she did know someone at the hotel?  All these thoughts started to go through my head.  God!  Maybe she had a key! That night I didn’t sleep a wink.

But it didn’t get any better, the letters kept on coming, and every night she was at the bar, grinning at me with her leather face and teeth, like she wanted to eat me for dinner.

Finally August 31st came, I had survived something like two weeks with her there everynight just watching me, from the moment I started until, “New York, New York”, at the end; foaming at the mouth, chomping at the bit to get her Jaws into me.

I’d survived and it was time to go home back to the safety of the metropolis of London. I’d run out of wet ones anyway, so I had to go back.

I returned home and the memory faded. Autumn turned to Winter, the snow came and went and so did Christmas once more and here we are again now in the midsts of summer.

I’d forgotten all about her, until today when after just finishing a shoot in Hawaii and boarding a plane to San Francisco, I turned on my data roaming one time to many, logged into facebook and got the shock of my life to see, she had only bloody found me on facebook.  Even my silly name change to Jammy hadn’t thrown her off.

She was like a bloodhound tracking my scent. 

Hell, she’s probably at the airport waiting for me to land.

So if I make it to baggage re-claim and she hasn’t abducted (eaten) me, I think I might start going back on the hunt again rather than letting love find me.

At least then, I know what I’m getting

Wish me luck