Is it just ME?

Or is the ‘social quickie’ just plain rude

I RUSH to the restaurant for 5.45pm. It’s early but at least we’ll have a leisurely evening. My friend smiles brightly: ‘Glad you’re on time because I’m going to have to leave in an hour.’

What? Is she completely mad? That leaves me companionless at 7pm as Saturday night kicks off.

A week later I go for lunch at a friend’s. It’s a long commute but she has childcare issues. We end up meeting in the pub next door. One drink, no lunch. ‘Well, I must be going,’ she sighs. ‘We’ve people coming for lunch.’

I try to conceal my shock. For the second time I’ve been a victim of the ‘social quickie’ — the new solution for time-pressed people.

Current wisdom has it that snack- sized interactions such as a spontaneous drink, the walk to yoga or the trainplat-form chat are just as nourishing as a long evening with your friend.

Er, not for me, they’re not. I’d argue it’s a criminal act to book up a single woman’s Saturday evening only to chuck them onto the street 45 minutes later.

I note with sadness that the social quickie is largely a female phenomenon. Men tend to be better at carving out free time — the Sundaymorning bike ride with the boys, the football. They don’t feel guilty about making mates a priority.

So, dear ladies, please warn me in advance if you want a bite-sized catch-up. Then I can arrange more fun later in the evening.

It may be fine for you to keep things short and sweet (‘ My husband is picking me up straight after the theatre,’ a friend announces briskly. ‘I’m sure he can drop you off, too.’) but, for many of us, it’s a totally unsatisfactory interaction.

It’s no more than a lowcarb snack that leaves us feeling demoralised and hungry. Prioritise your friends, please — or don’t arrange to meet us at all.

Bite-size catchups? They’re a low-carb snack that leaves us hungry for more