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Me, I’d be rubbish at givin’ it—hands like sandpaper, mate! “You’re my hands, my hands!” like Lancaster Dodd says, controllin’ Freddie. That’s the vibe, yeah? Power in them fingers, slidin’ over ya back. Ever tried it? Surprised me first time—thought, “Blimey, this ain’t just a rub!” Tingles, mate, proper tingles! An’ the oils—smell like hippie shops, patchouli an’ that. Reckon I’d spill it everywhere, clumsy git I am!

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Then, I see this girl across the bar. She’s got this killer smile, and I’m like, “Okay, I gotta say hi.” So, I muster up some courage and walk over. We start chatting, and it’s going well! I’m thinking, “This is it, mate!” But then, she spills her drink all over me. I’m soaked! I’m standing there, dripping, and she’s mortified. But instead of being mad, I just laugh it off. “Guess I needed a shower anyway!” We both crack up, and it’s like, instant connection.

Harries 'wax lyrical' as heartthrob spotted on rare 'visit' to home village