I know I've mentioned it a few times, but I am not obsessed with the fact that Blind Date comes from North of the Watford Gap, but maybe I should be!
My dear friend, Paul, a Londoner by birth, but someone who has lived and worked in Yorkshire for many years, after getting together with a lovely lawyer friend of mine, has been telling me for years that all the real men live up North and I should move back up to where I spent six very happy years in my early twenties. It's a possibility I have often considered myself, as I love it and, as an added bonus, invariably the guys I like the look of on dating sites do live along way North of where I currently reside, having probably run for the Pennines in sheer terror, after reading this...!
Said man worked with said lovely lawyer friend when we were trainee lawyers, and I had noticed him from afar across crowded bars on our regular Friday night drinks after work. I don't think he'd noticed me as he was far too qualified and important to fraternise with a mere trainee and, anyway, I had no idea whether he was single.
Nevertheless, in those days, blind faith and optimism propelled me to do things that these days I might, just might, things twice about! So it was, that another lawyer friend and I, started plotting. How was I going to get him to notice me at the upcoming Young Solicitor's Ball?
Our idea was simple, if a little crazy - I'd send him some flowers! His name was Mark (or something along those lines - you know the 'name' change rules!). This is relevant as on the card accompanying the flowers, we penned the following, not to be missed offer:
Just for the record, I was referring an evening at the Ball, nothing naughtier! My friend placed the order and paid in cash. Our thinking was that he was bound to come to the Ball and was bound to attend with significant other in tow, if he had one. Therefore if he did attend a deux then the flowers could not be traced back to me and that was the end of the matter; if he attended alone, I might just introduce myself as the woman single handedly keeping Interflora in business (what with sending flowers to strange men and friends sending them to me when sad after the latest break-up)!
However, you probably won't be surprised to hear that, whilst the bouquet that landed on his desk certainly had an impact, it wasn't quite the one I had planned...
For a start, and entirely coincidentally, as I genuinely had no idea, it arrived on his birthday! As a result, he thought it was sent by his mates having a laugh at his expense....and didn't go to the Ball anyway, as was away on a boy's weekend to celebrate his birthday! The best I got was a grainy photo and a mention in his company's internal newsletter - 'Mark gets flowers from a secret admirer!
So, Cinders went to the Ball, but left without Prince Charming which, actually, he didn't turn out to be anyway....
Some weeks later, I bumped into him on one of our Friday nights out and Dutch courage encouraged a full and frank confession of my flower buying habits! Said confession led to a few months of dating, leading to a 'romantic' weekend away in the Peak District - only trouble, and what I didn't know then, was that his many phone calls that weekend, allegedly to his mother as it was apparently her birthday, were actually to a new girlfriend (without having first dispatched the old one - me)! Not nice...
I only felt better when he took her to the following year's Ball and she was wearing a gold lurex dress...classy! Many things you can buy, taste is not one of them...NEXT (another tale involving a floral tribute to follow later)!
That said, have I told you about Flower Power, the Mancunian that I dated many years ago...it all started so well....
Said man worked with said lovely lawyer friend when we were trainee lawyers, and I had noticed him from afar across crowded bars on our regular Friday night drinks after work. I don't think he'd noticed me as he was far too qualified and important to fraternise with a mere trainee and, anyway, I had no idea whether he was single.
Nevertheless, in those days, blind faith and optimism propelled me to do things that these days I might, just might, things twice about! So it was, that another lawyer friend and I, started plotting. How was I going to get him to notice me at the upcoming Young Solicitor's Ball?
Our idea was simple, if a little crazy - I'd send him some flowers! His name was Mark (or something along those lines - you know the 'name' change rules!). This is relevant as on the card accompanying the flowers, we penned the following, not to be missed offer:
'I've read Dark is the Night; now I fancy a night with Mark! How about it?'
However, you probably won't be surprised to hear that, whilst the bouquet that landed on his desk certainly had an impact, it wasn't quite the one I had planned...
For a start, and entirely coincidentally, as I genuinely had no idea, it arrived on his birthday! As a result, he thought it was sent by his mates having a laugh at his expense....and didn't go to the Ball anyway, as was away on a boy's weekend to celebrate his birthday! The best I got was a grainy photo and a mention in his company's internal newsletter - 'Mark gets flowers from a secret admirer!
So, Cinders went to the Ball, but left without Prince Charming which, actually, he didn't turn out to be anyway....
Some weeks later, I bumped into him on one of our Friday nights out and Dutch courage encouraged a full and frank confession of my flower buying habits! Said confession led to a few months of dating, leading to a 'romantic' weekend away in the Peak District - only trouble, and what I didn't know then, was that his many phone calls that weekend, allegedly to his mother as it was apparently her birthday, were actually to a new girlfriend (without having first dispatched the old one - me)! Not nice...
I only felt better when he took her to the following year's Ball and she was wearing a gold lurex dress...classy! Many things you can buy, taste is not one of them...NEXT (another tale involving a floral tribute to follow later)!
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