‘Have you been on any dates recently?’ I asked Liz.
‘I’m too obsessed with paint colours to think about dating. ‘I’m trying to choose between milk thistle and Wedgewood lilac,’ Liz replied. She’s recently bought her first home and is busy decorating and furnishing it. ‘Though the cashier at B&Q asked for my number,’ she added.
‘Well you can’t knock a guy for trying. And his store discount could come in handy. Was he good looking, at least?’ I teased.
‘No, he was overweight, middle-aged and bald. I couldn’t even be bothered to say I had a boyfriend. I just told him he was being cheeky. What about you?’
‘I’m trying to avoid dating for as long as possible. I’m very happy without any dramas.’
Liz could see my point. Her neighbours row frequently. ‘I put Mary J Blige on the other evening and the row subsided but then I could hear the woman sobbing.’
‘That sounds like my former life with Hot Danish. My previous neighbours were visibly relieved when I moved out.’
The problem is that most of my friends don’t believe that I’m happy avoiding dating. Kate’s response was a flat denial, ‘I’m sure you’ll meet someone soon.’ Craig gave me three months.
Feeling slightly hungover on Sunday, I had a flick through Hot Danish’s Facebook friends. He had recently added a new one: a good-looking entrepreneur. I looked him up on LinkedIn; we had eight people in common. The request was sent and a few days later he accepted…
Meanwhile, there’s a particular ostrich feather duster that Liz wants to purchase in Paris. She’s booked her trip, ‘I’ll catch up with friends while I’m there, too.’
