There is more travel coming up. I am making the most of my time in London by interviewing new Angels as efficiently as possible, in the hope that I find one that I can crown Ultimate Christmas Angel of 2013 and then dote on him contentedly for a few months. So here is what I’ve been doing over the last couple of days.

  • I met an Angel from New Zealand who was pleasant enough but who seemed tense, which is never sexy.
  • Then I met an absolutely gorgeous, heartbreakingly pretty London Angel who is too young to even have his own place to live but who has a degree in Chinese. I’ll just let that information sink in. He has a degree in Chinese. I asked him to teach me and promised to exchange Chinese lessons for some other kinds of lessons. I wonder if I will hear from him again. We had dinner in North London but he didn’t arrive until quite late in the evening and I had to leave him after about an hour and a half to go and visit another Angel in Swiss Cottage, of which more news in a moment. This was a bit rude of me. If I were on a date with someone, I would be annoyed if they left after 90 minutes to go and meet someone else, but it is what it is. Things just panned out that way. I will send him a nice text message and see if I can entice him into another date in which he gets my full attention. Like Delroy the Beautiful, he has a face that you could just look at and look at and never grow tired of looking. He is so pretty that even the mildly sadistic impulses to which I referred in my last post lay down and went to sleep. I told him ‘I feel very strongly disposed to make you feel happy and comfortable’ and that really does sum it up.
  • You probably want to know what happened with Sayed. Sayed might not be very experienced in matters of the heart, esp considering that he is even older than I, and he might have poor judgement, but he is not stupid. He is intuitive enough. Therefore he quickly detected a menacing atmosphere in my general environment and hurried away, which is probably the best thing for all parties, all things considered. I LOLd. I was also mildly frustrated as I was looking forward to delivering him from his sins.
  • It was this that led to the bizarre twist of events which saw me leaving a drop-dead gorgeous, Chinese-speaking Angel at the tube station while I jumped in a taxi and zoomed off to Swiss Cottage to meet someone else. Do you remember there was a guy from last weekend who had a cold and called me to defer our dinner date? The 31-year-old French Angel with the athletic physique? Well he contacted me at more or less the precise moment that Sayed fled. We had a conversation and I learned some surprising things about him. (1) In one way, he is French, but in another, even stronger way, he is Middle Eastern. (2) In fact he is from the same country as Sayed. (3) And looks like Sayed. (4) And sounds just like Sayed. (5) And is in the exact same profession as Sayed. At this point I was starting to pay attention. (6) Yet unlike Sayed has an impressively muscular and athletic physique that speaks of many hours in the gym. (7) And unlike Sayed, when I explicitly warned him that I was in a Certain Mood and was packing Certain Items in my handbag, he said ‘I would love that’ and practically begged me to come over to his place and push him around. So I did. I went to his very expensive flat and showed him who was boss. Will I see him again, I don’t know. He was fun and he was very co-operative but I don’t think I can love him in the way that I could easily love Delroy the Beautiful or Chinese-Speaking Angel or Hungarian Boy with all my heart, without even having to think about it. Also, he said things that I now recognise as common to men over 30, things which I do not want to hear, such as ‘I want to get married and have children’ and ‘all my friends are getting married and I feel left out’. Which just perfectly sums up the exact problem with guys that age and why the official eligibility criteria for this year’s Christmas Angels event include being 20-something. In twelve months that guy will get married just because he feels left out and thinks that that is what he is supposed to do, and five or ten years after that, he will be bored and miserable. And I am not going to stick around to watch that sequence of events kick off, no matter how nice his flat is or how fit he is or how much he likes getting over my lap.
  • And finally. Hungarian Boy. Bless his petulant little heart. He texts me. I text him. He pushes and pulls. Testing the boundaries. I think this kid is getting a lot of attention from mature women, which is his target demographic, and is spoiled rotten. I think there are a lot of ladies out there who have fallen for his considerable charm and he is doing his best to play the situation so as to get what he wants, for which I suppose one cannot blame him. I think I would do the same at his age and in his circumstances. For my part, I am as steadfast and immovable as the Head Honcho, who would be proud of me. When he steps away, I don’t call him. When he comes to me, I am there. I don’t stand for any rudeness. I make it clear what kind of behaviour is expected and he tests me to find out whether I mean it. And I do mean it. Ask that Middle Eastern Angel in Swiss Cottage whether I mean it.

And that’s all the news.

Madonna: Hanky Panky (1990)

2 thoughts on “Hanky-Panky”

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