In The Powder Room

I went out with some girlfriends last night. There was drinking and chatting and the usual cheeky girl talk. And because some of my girlfriends are single, there were a couple of attempts from men to chat them up. It's all good, light-hearted stuff: no one gets rude; no one gets offended. I'm sporting shiny bling from my recent marriage so I tend to get ignored, but I don't mind.

I feel sorry for boys in this situation. It takes courage (or too much beer) to talk to a stranger, so we aren't bitches about it. But I do think that some of them might benefit from rethinking their strategies a little. Last night was a good example this.

Conversation number one:

"You have really great legs. I'm jealous."

Let's think about that for a moment, shall we?

Option A: she has amazingly manly legs, which he wants to emulate. I'm struggling to see how this confession will make her want to go home with him.

Option B: she has shapely women's legs, which he wants to emulate. I'm struggling to see how this confession will make her want to go home with him.

Option C. He's a drag act, with better frocks but worse pins...

Conversation number two:

"So how come you're out without your husband?"

My cynical other half says this is an attempt to discover whether, despite my wedding ring, I can be tempted to stray. Be that as it may, this line, from the mouth of a barely twenty-year-old child, has me plummeting into depression. It is, in fact, the only time I have actually banged my head repeatedly on a bar (deliberately) out of sheer desperation. With a deep sigh, I considered pointing out that these days women are allowed out to all sorts of places unaccompanied. But I just cannot summon the strength. Instead I look woefully stricken and sigh more, until he goes away.

Conversation number three:

"Have I seen you before somewhere?"

I hate to be a pendant, but she simply does not know if you've seen her somewhere before. Isn't this something you should be telling her? What answer were you hoping for, other than an exceptionally blank "Ummm, I don't know?" response? Is this your way of showing that love is not so much blind as it is severely myopic?

We left. And as we did so, a tiny and very drunk pensioner clutched at my friend's hand. He looked up at her with big liquid eyes and managed to slobber out the words: "Angel, where've you been all my life?" It had been a long night, but class act that she is, she managed a kindly smile:

"Oh sweetie," she said, patting his shoulder, "I don't think I was born for most of it."