Man! the email subject line read.
Even had I been full of Monday morning beans and utterly engrossed in the thrilling prospect of writing my pages-long to-do list which, to be honest wasn’t exactly the case, I’d have been distracted. As it was, I seized the opportunity with an enthusiastic click of the finger to break away from several sides of A4 which mostly read “chase client on…” to read what PolitiGal could possibly have to say that came under such an intriguing headline.
You may recall that I recently went on a date, the email read. I suspect it was very recently but all sense of time has become totally warped of late so I am not a good judge. Time is being warped by the black hole of a new man. Infinite hormonal mass being wont to do that kind of thing. And he is WONDERFUL.
I love PG with my whole heart. I’ve known her now for a very long time and together we’ve been through ups, downs, and a hairy 15 minutes where I thought we weren’t going to be allowed out of Tunisia (did I ever blog that little incident? I really should at some point). Unsurprisingly in that time, we’ve also been through several rounds of mandrama, from my dating gay men to her turning down marriage proposals via my getting so drunk I couldn’t remember which man I’d agreed to date via her thinking she was being chatted up when she was actually being asked for a job.
Thus to hear that 2011 seems to be currently looking as fondly upon her in the man-shaped stakes as it is on me was exceedingly welcome news indeed.
She explained that her new chap is the brother of a colleague before going on to list his very many virtues, including the fact that he sends her text messages containing jokes about Ed Balls.
Who knew, PG continued, that being set up could work?! Who would have thought that the odds of one person who you get on with really well, being able to spot other people you will get on with really well would be higher than internet dating being successful?!
When it’s put like that, and when you consider that my experience of online dating was a guy who took me to Strada and went on to show me a date so bad I genuinely gave up on the whole endeavour for some while (should blog that too); and hers was a man with terrible BO who enjoyed medieval reenactment, it’s a wonder we didn’t consider this route earlier.
The Writer was introduced to me via his ex-housemate who, having listened to us both, independently, extol the virtues of decent balsamic vinegar, decided we should go for drinks as we’d have “the most middle-class friendship ever”. I’m sure that might have been the case, had we not leapt into bed on date one (Rules? What Rules?), and now PG seems to have discovered that one’s friends do seem to be a good judge of character where dateable types are concerned.
Of course, in all the enthusiasm, it is worth considering that success does all rather boil down to the person you’ve chosen to do the setting-up. Otherwise, however good an idea it might be, you might still find yourself dating the gay ones – who’d probably be equally excited about an email bearing that subject line.
Forty days: Pt 40 (Out of Office)
1 hour ago