Not so Bridget…

So, Valentine’s Day came and went – which date did I go on? The French man from the dating app, the bubbles with an old friend, or the dinner with a man I know well, who was over from the States? The answer, my best friends, is… none.

Now, before you think ‘That one is her own worst enemy’, in my defence I was recovering from flu and just couldn’t drag myself to get there.

In fact, I was on so many meds that when I caught up with Darcy that morning – at 11am, I might add – he thought I was drunk, and shouted: ‘Right, come on. Who let her sniff a cork!?’ Much to the amusement of all who heard. Truth be told, my Valentine’s night ended in me being in bed solo by 7.30pm – and the only card I got was from my daughter’s dog for being ‘The World’s Best Nanny’. Aww. Bless him. Someone loves me.

So, what next? Well, I’ve already been back on the app and here is a question that Darcy has asked many times before: Why do people lie? Sooner or later, we will meet. I was message by a very cultured man who ‘used to work in TV’. He seemed charming, very intelligent and his profile said he was 54. Looking at his pics, I suspected he was nearer to 60, but that was still fine with me. He told me to look him up. I did – and found his birth date. He is 70 – that is quite a way from 54…I’ve decided afgainst it. Days later, my phone pinged. It was from a man who has been trying to persuade me to meet up with him for at least six months. ‘ Would one drink kill you? You never know. I just have a feeling about us…’ I sighed and replied: ‘ Well, okay. ONE drink. Let’s say Wednesday’. I’ve already decided I will pay. That way, I can make a quick escape. You could ask why, if I feel like that, am I even going? Well, it’s not that he isn’t charming or attractive, maybe we could have the odd drink when he is in London. But he is a club owner - in Ibiza - and I’ve long stopped caring about who is in

I HAVE STOPPED CARING ABOUT GETTING A V.I.P. PASS TO SOME TRENDY ISLAND CLUB

the charts or needing a VIP pass to some trendy Balearic island nightclub. My daughter and her friends might be rather impressed, though…

So should I get a hobby? Start playing golf ?

I’m thinking of putting a lonely hearts ad in a paper like The Times… a rather old-fashioned idea I know. Then again, deep down, I think I’m a rather oldfashioned girl.

I might try adapting a few lines from Four Weddings…

I’ve always just hoped that I’d meet some nice friendly man, like the look of him, hope the look of me didn’t make him physically sick, then wait for him to pop the question and, um, settle down and be happy. It worked for my parents. Well, apart from the divorce and all that.