Another true story.No names at all this time and Jo (if you're reading this)you haven't heard it before.

So.The romance was over.Seven years gone and she was single again.

What does she do?
Like the rest of us she couldn't go forward.
Not yet.
She went back.
Back to her single days.
She bought the new shoes.
She rounded up the party girls (even the one that looks like Dee Snyder from Twisted Sister).
She was going to have FUN and she didn't need a man anymore.Not yet.

But that isn't the way life works.
She met him on that first Saturday night.
He ticked ALL the right boxes.
Good looking.Own house and business.Nice car.
Lust at first sight.
Fireworks.

She met him the following week.Same deal.
But then it changed.
It's hard to learn how to be nice to people again when you've been at war for six months.
" Why don't you just leave? You gozzy-eyed,short-legged,ginger-haired FREAK!" (I thought that was her best line...)

When Lover Boy asked if he could see her on a Wednesday night what she wanted to say was "Yes,I'd love to!".What she actually said was "Let's get one thing straight.I'm not looking for a boyfriend.Okay?"

He got the message.It was the wrong message but he still got it.
He stopped ringing.
Like 99% of us men he couldn't read between the lines.
She was devastated.

This is where I came in.
"I've blown it DB."
"Yes you have."
"What do you think I should do?"
"Ring him".
"I can't do THAT!"
"Go to where you met and hope you bump into him."
"I'll look like a stalker."
"Stick a note through his door."
"AS IF!!!"
"Then you're fucked."
"I know."

A month passed.

"I've been thinking DB."
"Yeah?"
"About the note through the door thing.I don't suppose..."
"No chance."
"Well could you at least drive me up there because he'll recognize my car!"
"I don't know.I'll think about it.We'll see."

We went that night.

A big problem was that she wasn't quite sure where Lover Boy lived.She'd only been there at 3.00am when she was chemically adjusted.
"And it was dark..."
I should have taken a map.We spent an hour trawling around this vast faceless housing estate in the back of the beyond.Everybody I stopped for directions didn't seem to know anything about where they lived.Eventually we met a milkman who was on his collections.We'd passed the road about a dozen times.
"This is it." I said as I turned into a quiet cul-de-sac.
She started screaming.
"Wait! Stop the car.STOP THE CAR!!!"
I pulled over.
"What now?"
"You can't just drive down the road.He might see us!"
"He's going to see you anyway when you walk down his driveway!"
"Well I thought you might...."
"You must be joking.Give!" I snatched the note from her hand."What number does he live at?"
"Seventeen."
"Wait here."
I got out the car and started walking down the road trying to look inconspicuous.Difficult when you're 6'2" with a Roy Orbison fixation.
The fading light/middle aged eyesight combo was making it hard to discern the house numbers.
27...White Gables...Fairview... 
Why do people do that? You know what I mean.Giving modest homes grandiose names?
Having said that,when The Enemy and I bought our first place we named it Jollity Farm.
It wasn't a farm.
After a little while it wasn't that jolly either.
Anyway.Where was I? Oh yeah.
33...35? I was walking in the wrong direction!
I turned around.She stuck her head out of the car window.
"What are you doing?"
"THIS is number seventeen,soft girl!"
I'd parked across his driveway...
"Oh My God! Post the letter! POST THE LETTER!!!"
I did.There didn't seem to be anyone at home.
I got back to the car.She was bent double like in the airline safety drill.
"Start the car! Start the car! Drive! DRIVE!"

All the way home she never shut up.
"Oh my God! What have I done? He'll think I'm a really sad bunnyboiler! I should never have LISTENED to you!!!"
"Listened to ME? I didn't make you do it."
"Yeah,but it was YOUR idea!"

He rang that night.Round about ten.

She met him Saturday night.
The fireworks resumed.

So.
A happy ending then?

Not quite.

The following week I asked her when she was seeing Lover Boy again.
"I don't think I am.I've sort of gone off him BUT I met this other fella on Friday that I really like..."

Women are strange chaps.