Lonely heart

Sometimes I perform random acts of kindness just for the hell of it.    I’ll help an old lady across Picadilly Circus, give up my seat on London Underground when somebody collapses at my feet, or randomly stroke Guido’s man bun.  Well, yesterday I got to play Cupid for a café customer, and it felt good.

Let me introduce you to motor cycle dispatch rider and sometime lonely heart, Jerome.  He’s a 38 year old South London hunk who urgently needed my help.  Apparently old fashioned personal ads in the encounters section of The Times are tricky to write these days.  I was just the person with the right matchmaking qualifications to draft it.  The fact that when I was single I made Quasimodo look like the most popular guy about town was but merely a trifling detail.  We bonded in a booth with our heads together over French Toast and a big banana.  

Jerome is Sociable with a capital S.  He has a great sense of humour, a full head of hair and his own teeth.  He loves cats and his ideal woman is a man.  What’s not to love? He’s fit but has a worrying habit of jogging into The Spanish Onion café on his days off wearing a pair of alarmingly tight running shorts.  I’m not saying that’s not pleasing.  The only other possible negative I can drum up is that apparently he has a predilection for listening to Celine Dion loudly on Saturday nights.   We’re all human. 

 I got out my notepad and pen.  “We should just write down the first tantalising thing about you which you think of and comes straight into your head.  We’ll rule nothing in nor nothing out.  Tell me really fast. What’s irresistible about you?”  I braced myself.  Jerome stared blankly at my equally blank page whilst I checked out his mashed banana technique.  He’s a slicer rather than a musher.  Still, the word desperate loomed large like an elephant in the room.  “Okay dokey,” I said, “maybe we should do this really slow.”   I changed plan and he spoke about his ideal men.  It was the usual unattainable beef cake roll call.

“If you could date Johnny Depp, George Clooney, Brad Pitt or Guido – and be honest here, who’d you pick?” said Jerome sipping his latte.  I chewed my nail and pondered. Honestly, that was a tough one.  Brad did have great hair.  “Well?” he said. 

“Don’t rush me,” I said, “I’ve got it narrowed down to Johnny or George.”  

In the end I shaved five years off Jerome and we just settled for this.  See below.  

Sexy man aged 33 seeks fun loving guy for good times.  Looks unimportant.  Must be tall dark and handsome.  Please feel free to respond.  It would be a real boost for his ego.

Later in bed last night Guido asked me what I’d place in a personal ad if I was still looking for love and a good carbonara.  

“Gone to seed forty something seeks short sighted sex maniac,”  I said.

Guido took off his glasses and squinted straight at me.  I think we’re possibly a match made in heaven.  

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14 thoughts on “Lonely heart

  1. Ok so if you stumble upon the post where I write about going to the Celine Dion concert it was my boyfriend at the time who made me go. Ya, that’s it, he made me and I don’t want to throw away the CDs he got me in case we get back together, I got to shake her hand but doesn’t matter because I don’t like her. Oh wait, you guys are gay, what is everyone going to judge me while listening to their ABBA or Coldplay tunes, ok I like them too.

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  2. I’m sorry the Celine thing has to go. There’s a clinic for it somewhere in deepest darkest Canada – hell maybe even in our bedroom. I believe they tie you to a fourposter bed and made you listen to her crucifying Christ way before Easter by singing O Holy Night. Yeah that does sound like our bedroom.

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  3. Hi Jean Paul, Ted here, with the revelation that Guido is a sex maniac I think we had better cancel our cards session this week. As you know Gary has not been well lately and I don’t want him getting too excited. lol Ted.

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