Some people don't allow themselves to be let down easy. No, they have to make a big thing out of something that never got further than an embryonal status. Like a stolen kiss from a drunken lady. What happened on Saturday was that I did not feel like going clubbing at all - while the guy who asked me out considered it a sin to refuse. As if he were talking about tossing a delicious fresh curry, now thàt would be a sin. In fact, all I could think about that day was hot, harty food and an evening spent entirely in bed. But since Arthur insisted, I agreed to have a drink in the trendy but 100% boring White Bar at the hotel ↑ . When my date arrived he delivered a sermon of about half an hour about how he cancelled all his appointments with his 1,000,000 friends to go out with me (the honour!) only to find out that I was dumping him.

Now here's a thing about myself: don't trust me when I'm drunk. I'll tell you all sorts of things, remember them in the morning, but won't give a toss. I had actually warned him that's how I work and he admitted he didn't believe me because I look 'so very innocent'. But I wasn't ditching, didn't dump anyone. In the end we agreed on that. And spent a good two hours chatting about family and interests. I guess we found out that we weren't that bad after all: he proved to have some sort of brain and I was less bitchy than he'd thought I was.