And by virtue of us dropping the h on ‘hard’, it means we’re, well, ‘ard. Or maybe just hard.
*makes fisty-cuff; shakes it*
So poor old Leona Lewis off-of needs a whole load of media training, like, as a matter of urgency but is j’adorable all the same, got punched in the face by some nutter at a book signing in London’s glittering London, yesterday.
Leona was signing copies of her autobiography, Dreams (‘I’ve been on an amazing journey. I’m so honoured. It’s amazing. I love all my fans. It’s truly amazing. Honoured? Very much so. I come from Hackney. The end’), at Waterstones on Piccadilly (nice café, views to die for, etc.) when the happy slap occurred. Sidebar: Not actually sure if you can call it a ‘happy slap’ if it didn’t occur on a night bus and/or the miscreant involved didn’t have poker hair and a fuller face (thanks to Aunty Joan Collins for that line. Empathy? Optional. One-liners? Priceless!)…
So there Leona Lewis was, dutifully sitting for hours on end signing the latest crap idea courtesy of Camp Cowell (literally and figuratively), when the man came up to her, Dreams in hand (literally and figuratively), handed Leona the book, she signed it (what were you expecting? A puppet show?), and as she looks up, he punched her in the face.
A terrified witness said her attacker yelled, ‘I love you, Leona!’ mid-punch (a multi-tasking criminal. Now that’s surely a matter for the police) at which point Leona screamed back, ‘I don’t love you!’
Now there’s a classic comeback if ever there was one.
Another terrified witness, currently being comforted by some of that new Bailey’s with coffee stuff, said Leona cried out in pain, then was quickly led off by her security, crying real tears. None of that fake shit.
The nutter is described as over 6ft, skinny, with mousy brown hair.
*edges away from 70% of the people in office, slowly, without scaring anyone*