This isn’t FFS. This is a guy I’ve known for years, sitting beside me at a bus stop, just twenty-four hours after Stephen asked if I was ‘coming for that drink’. Has a memo gone out to all my male acquaintance: hit on me now because it might be your last chance?!
I laugh. ‘Yes, once. Actually I saw the guy who said it last night.’
Thursday Guy had appeared at dancing for the first time in months, and judging from his behaviour, he’d also seen the memo.
We’re on our way back from a night out, which was supposed to be my third ‘method of finding a date’. It began with dinner. In the spirit of ‘making things happen’, I’d specifically requested a seat next to Eligible Bachelor. Instead I find myself between Ben – who thinks of me rather like a sister… who he doesn’t much like – and an empty chair.
Across from me is an accountant, who after half a bottle of wine betrays a flicker of personality.
‘Swan Lake?’ I say, when a new song comes on over the sound system.
He looks at me like I’m from another planet.
‘It’s Ella Fitzgerald,’ he says, slowly.
‘Oh – yeah.’
‘Thanks for your text.’
It’s a moment before Ben remembers what I’m referring to. ‘Oh, no worries.’
‘I imagine I’m not the first person to ask that….’
What’s the lowdown on Patrick?
Ben came back to me a week later…
I’m afraid Patrick has a girlfriend.
Patrick? Patrick who?
We spill out onto the pavement, to be met by Michael.
‘Long time, no see!’
‘You’re very late. Where have you been?!’
Michael runs a hand through his already untidy hair.
‘Oh… I was held up.’
I take his arm. ‘That’s very enigmatic…’
And all I’m getting apparently.
‘So… are you in love?’ I say, with a grin. He always asks me this.
Again he ruffles his hair. ‘No. Are you?’
(TO BE CONTINUED)
This month: A night out.
Last month: Just Singles.