It's a hard life... ;-)

Dinner on Friday with friends, at a nice Portuguese restaurant, and once the beef and beer had been finished it was time to pay.

But my card is declined. Twice. Mike is mortified.

Well, a friend covers some of my bill (many thanks again Mr.) but I was, of course, really worried. It’s a new card, so maybe it’s broken? I've just been paid...

Anyway, I check it out and, well, to cut a long story short, it turns out I’m the victim of identity fraud! I’d been cleared out, gentle reader, and had zero pounds left!! And right before a week of dates!!!

Of course it will be sorted - stoicism is our watchword - but in the meantime (the bank has actually been really good about it) I dashed into town on Saturday and got some emergency funds to tide me over. Phew! Dating still on. I cannot tell you how relieved I was not to have to cancel any of the events lined up for the first week of June.

Sunday, Sunday… and instead of doing any work in the morning (which I really needed to get on with) I lazed around the flat until it was time to get ready, meet my neighbour, catch the ferry, and head up to the O2 dome for Sex and the City.

My neighbour had arranged for a couple of her friends/acquaintances to join us at the dome for the film; a slightly unusual turn of events as we’re all friends of friends - so as well as catching a film, we were all meeting new (or new-ish) people. But, over mai -tais and Thai food before the film we ended up getting on famously and having a bit of a riotous time! And the film was rather good, actually – had me chocked up in a couple of places, laughing out loud a lot.

Of the four of us, one other was a single gay man too. Well, my neighbour did let slip she’d asked him in part because he and I are both single and she was slightly apologetic at trying to, in a small way, fix us up. On the contrary, I insisted, all assistance welcome!

But after the film there was only time for one more cocktail before I had to dash into London for my date! Yes, a last minute thing; one of the people I’d been messaging on Parship bit the bullet and asked me out. And what a thrill it was to be asked; normally I'm the one pursuing.

We met at Royal Festival Hall, and he took me down to a nice parade of arty shops, galleries and restaurants called Gabriel’s Wharf. There we settled down with a few glasses of wine and talked the night away. And, God, we talked! What can I say? Psychometrics work! We’re supposed to be 82% compatible, whatever that means, but I think I could tell the difference – he would say what I was thinking, etc; we’ve definitely got minds that work along the same lines. It's amazing how we liked the same things, got each other's jokes and so on...

After Gabriel’s Wharf we went on to the Skylon Restaurant in the Royal Festival Hall itself for a bit more wine and eventually, after having put the world to rights, we had to go our separate ways.

So, a good date! I texted him to say I wanted to see him again, and he replied in the positive, so we shall have to see what occurs. But it was really nice to meet him.

In the meantime onto the next guy…