Not So Grim Up North

For those of you who think us single girls and boys are nothing more than a bunch of relationship fascists, let me tell you a little story that could persuade you otherwise.

Mel, the boobalicious blonde and my best friend, has fallen for a boy. A real-life boy, none of this rubbish dates with foot fetishes and bizarre religious practises. No, this is Mike, a lawyer no less. And he's lovely. Mel introduced him to us during their second date, which was basically a childish trip to Blackpool Pleasure Beach (despite our average age being around 24).

All the singletons were there. And then there was Mel and her Mike tagging along, both looking a little awkward, both looking a little like they realised that being a couple - albeit a fledgling couple on their second outing - with a bunch of lone wanderers was probably the best way to kill it before it could begin.

But we knew how much Mike meant to Mel. Of course, we also knew that this wasn't her first 'oh God, he is the ONE' boy, but we could see she really liked him. So we wandered away when it seemed appropriate, bumping into them in the odd queue for a ride. Everything looked blissful.

As the time came to meet back at the van to get us all home, we took our time getting in touch with Mel to make sure she squeezed every bit of alone time with Mike as she could out of the day.

We all looked at each other, each of us thinking the same thing but never uttering our thoughts. Because we knew that there was something good about to happen for Mel. For once, one of our brave number having gone into the battlefield that is Manchester on a Saturday night escaping unscathed and with a marvellous man instead
of one of the usual strange boys that we tend to attract.

The warm, good natured feeling continued until we got home. Then, as we watched little Mel totter off with Mike we turned to face our depleted number as we realised that there was one more friend who was loved up and happy.

The seven of us made our way to the nearest pub. Because for every Mike there's always the foot-obsessed. And for that reason we'd rather have a vodka and coke.