Not So Grim Up North

Dating got a little bit more complicated for one of my singletons. It seems there is no stopping the weird and wonderful boys of the north from coming out to play...or not, as the case may be.

After seeing our Mel disappear off into the sunset last week with her njew fella, she's been determined to find one of her own. So, having met a nice enough bloke in a bar in Liverpool city centre after work, she decided to meet him for a non-date-date. This involved a lot of preperation. She got herself a non-slutty but still sexy dress, practised different make up techniques and made sure she could walk elegantly in her heels.

As she was on her way out of the door, however, she realised that she couldn't really remember what he looked like. Not that she was drunik the other night, she was just that keen to meet someone that she'd not taken ihe guy in properly.

Not really that worried, she made her way to the docks, hoping that she'd recognise him straight away. But she had no luck. Every bloke looked like Paul - or at least, looked like the Paul she vaguely remembered. As she went from being early to being late for her date and still no sign of a lone man who had brown hair (definitely) and brown eyes (maybe), she realised that he hadn't even called her to acknowledge that their date was just not going to happen.

Sad and miserable, Sarah called me to regale me with tales of her disastrous non-date. Deciding it made no sense for us both to stay in on a Friday night, I too got glammed up and we went on our way into town.

Sod Paul and his lack of taste! Sod these men with their unmemorable faces! Let these boys come to us for a change. At least, that's what we thought until Sarah pulled a fireman and I went home with a little Irishman who claimed to be a real leprechaun but I think he might have been taking the piss...