When Helen was a little girl, she and her little friends would play a game which they called ‘Riding The Bus To Coventry’. The premise of the game was simple: one child, the bus driver, would say: “Good morning, and where are… Read more →
I’ve never been much of one for sharing. Maybe it’s the only child coming out in me, or maybe I’m just a selfish so and so, but I always think the world seems to work better when the boundary line between my… Read more →
So my posh friend Nick is power dating. He reveals this while we are being served half-price Thai food by a waitress who is precisely the same height standing up as I am sitting down. “This weekend,” he tells me, “I’m doing… Read more →
It’s probably not the done thing to arrive on a first date carrying two enormous Argos bags, but, one blustery evening in February, that is exactly what I’ve done. Before you say anything, dear reader, I’m fully aware this does not fall… Read more →
When Helen’s co-worker at the bookshop offered to set her up on a blind date, Helen dropped the Gok Wan she was holding and accepted immediately. Self-respect be damned. She’d never been the type to look a gift lesbian in the mouth,… Read more →
We are running side by side on the treadmills at Michael’s gym (his is set to level 15, mine to ‘I only tagged along to show off my Lonsdale boots’) when he asks the question no gay man over the age of… Read more →
I’m running between back-to-back meetings when Helen calls me in a flap. “Help!” she says. “I’ve forgotten the password to my Facebook account and they won’t let me back in without it.” She doesn’t specify who ‘they’ are. She doesn’t have to…. Read more →
“Well,” says Michael, “you definitely have a type.” “What do you mean?” As he hands my phone back to me, I stare at the screen, puzzled. Reflected there is a photo of my most recent flirtation, a young man I met in… Read more →
Shortly before Christmas, a friend of mine died. He wasn’t a close friend, but he was a nice guy and, at 34, far too young to bow out. He’d been working as a nurse at a London hospital, having recently escaped our… Read more →
Having so far viewed the recession as yet another fleeting obsession of an hysterical media (bird flu, anyone?), no-one is more surprised than me when a letter lands in my postbox, from my employer, inviting me to an interview for my own… Read more →
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