I should have been a little wary when my second Gaydar Girls suitor referred to our afternoon date in Soho as a “super fun time catch up”, but I had a few hours to kill in town before I met my friend for dinner and she could have been the woman of my dreams.

We met at Cafe Boheme on Old Compton Street. She had already been there two hours as I was 20 minutes late and she was one hour and 40 minutes early.

She jumped up to greet me as soon as I rushed in, apologising for my lateness.

“Oh gosh, oh let me get you a drink, is this chair okay for you? Shall we move here (leaps onto adjacent chair) or here? “ (pulls me across the bar) oh wow! Look at your hands! They are so small!” (I have slightly smaller than average hands) “They are like dolls hands! Look at your nails! They are so pink. Oh gosh, it is so lovely to meet you.”

“It’s lovely to meet you too” I said, because it was. She was perfectly harmless and seemed like a friendly kind of lady, and I felt bad for being late.

She was absolutely not my type, but I could see us having a pleasant drink together before going our separate ways in an hour or so.

“I am so sorry to be so early, I am so sorry” she babbled “I got the early train from Leeds in case the later one was delayed”.

“You were in Leeds?” I enquired.

“Yes, that’s where I live”

“Oh” I thought.

“So what brings you to London?” I said, with a sinking feeling, as I had already guessed the answer.

“To meet you of course!” she beamed at me, confirming my fears.

My plan of having a quick drink before making my excuses and leaving now seemed rather mean when she had come all the way from Leeds. I therefore resorted to plan B and got pissed.

I knocked back my Magners in silence while she rambled on. It is rare that words fail me but I find it hard to describe her. The best comparison is she was very much like Sarah, Saffy’s best friend on Ab Fab:


Overall she seemed like a nice woman, yet hyperactive, overly jumpy, enthusiastic, slightly crazed and, as the date progressed, a little bit scary.

“Oh gosh, isn’t this lovely! I love London. Wow look at your skirt, it’s so cool! You look just like your picture. I love cider! Can I kiss you?”

I gulped, forming the words to say that I really liked her but I didn’t think we were compatible. What actually came out of my mouth was:

“Oh. Okay then”

So then that happened.

Hating myself for leading her on, I said, “Look I am very sorry but I am meeting my friend for dinner very soon so I need to go”.

It was true after all and I had said in my emails I was only free for a few hours.

“Oh great!” she said brightly, “I’ll come too”

“I’m sorry you can’t, it’s just me and my friend”

“No I will definitely come”

“You can’t come”

“Oh yes I can”

Not sure how I was going to leave without her following me I came up with plan C and took her for a drink in the Candy Bar. My hope was that she could meet another unsuspecting lesbian to spend her evening with, so her trip to London was not wasted and I could quietly slip away.

I could have just made a run for it but I felt too guilty. She wasn’t a horrible woman and had been very complimentary about me and, after kissing her I felt a certain responsibility towards her.

Amazingly my plan seemed to work! We got chatting to a group of single women at the bar and I was able to bid my farewell and scoot off to dinner with my friend. We giggled over our pizza as I told her about the strange date.

About an hour passed before the phone rang, “where are you? I thought you were just going for dinner? You are coming back aren’t you?”

Oh gawd I didn’t realise I was supposed to go back.

“No I am not coming back I am afraid, it was lovely to meet you, have a great evening. Bye!”

Slightly harsh perhaps, but I couldn’t think of an alternative.

The phone rang again, and again and again and again. I eventually answered,

“I have got us a hotel room” my woman breathed, “the Savoy! And I am lying here on the bed naked waiting for you.”

Oh Christ.

“Look ***** I am ever so sorry if I led you on but I don’t want to have sex with you. I am going home now and switching my phone off. Goodbye.”

I hung up before she could protest and did switch my phone off.

The next morning I had a series of explicit voicemails and text messages waiting for me… And they weren’t angry. Blushing, I deleted them.

Thankfully she didn’t try and call me again but I did receive a few Facebook emails asking to meet up again and, oddly, she sent me a relationship request on Facebook stating she was my cousin.

I tried to think of a sensitive and emotionally intelligent response but I couldn’t, so I blocked her.

The end.

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