Alex Zane – Babes Bible

Alex Zane - Babes Bible

There is no finer way to make an impression on your celebrity crush than to peak and crash on a sugar-high, seranade them with a poor rendition of the Beastie Boys then ask them out with the retro usage of a post-it note. Zoe-Ann Harris lives the dream.

It’s only Monday and already I’ve managed to embarrass myself in front of potential beef. One slight problem; this potential beef goes by the name of Alex Zane.

Sometimes, and I mean sometimes… on very rare occasions… my job is a bit cool. Today is one of those days. In fact, the only day.

Alex Zane and the Xfm breakfast crew come into the office to play Rock Band. You know – the game where you can all play an instrument and form a virtual band. The guys at work go crazy for this type of game. I, on the other hand, am a typical girl: “So, it’s like karaoke then?!” Obviously, I’m taking the piss.

It’s lunchtime on a Monday and Alex Zane arrives in the office. If you haven’t guessed by now I think this guy is pure beef. He’s so beef I want to lick his stinky feet. One thing leads to another and I soon find myself making Alex Zane slush puppies and watching him playing Rock Band with the Xfm crew.

It turns out Zane is as annoyingly pleasant and charming as you’d expect him to be. This just makes him more desirable. I’ve always been a sucker for some cheeky wit and curly locks.

The guys convince me to have a go with them. I make out like they really have to twist my arm, but let’s be honest – at this point, am I really likely to say no? So I agree on ‘singing’ Sabotage by the Beastie Boys. Yeah, I know, not really a sing-song type song, is it? I talk / rap really badly. I’m from Bromley not Brooklyn. I end up with the worst score, but given the situation I attempt to give it my pathetic all and worry about the shame later.

The Rock Band session finishes and – not completely satisfied with embarrassing myself vocally – I think it’d be a good idea to give Alex Zane my number. I blame this on the amount of E numbers in bubble gum slush puppies. I umm and arr for about a nanosecond, but it’s too late – it’s almost as if I’ve had an out of body experience. No such luck.

I accost Zane before he leaves. I write my number on a post-it note. Retro, init. He takes it but also looks at it as if he’s thinking, “What am I supposed to do with it?”

I haven’t thought that part through. So I say, “Um, you know, maybe you fancy going for a drink? Give it a go? You might like it?”

Being a decent sort of bloke and probably in shock at my front he thanks me and takes it.

I know it’s wishful thinking, but I think he’s going to call. Obviously he hasn’t. The odds are that he isn’t likely to. I’m pretty sure I wrote my number down wrongly. The 0 could have easily merged into a 6.

I spend the next few days thinking my fifteen minutes of Zane-loving are over.

Until I discover my friend is doing promo work with him on Saturday.

It must be fate. Now, I just need to convince the Zane that.


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