I have two lovely friends who are, in estate agent speak,’ unexpectedly back on the market’ after their men did the dirty on them. One ran off with a Thai masseuse younger than his youngest daughter and the second returned to live with the wife he’d divorced 5 years before.
So this unattached pair enjoy a good night out whenever they get the chance and a certain London club is their favoured haunt. They get there and settle down at a table with mega drinks garnished with fruit and umbrellas. And then they play “Tonight Matthew, I’m going to be…..”
Experience has taught them that if they tell the truth and say they are teachers the men who approach them tend to drift off after an initial chat up. This is not good because the two ladies concerned end up dancing together all evening and they could have done that at home for free.
BUT they have discovered that if they claim to be nurses the men stay around to chat and dance for the entire evening. They always get asked for their numbers when they pretend to be nurses, too, and have had some fun dates as a result.
Apparently this type of identity theft is very common in clubland. My friend showed me a card that a tall, handsome chap in a club had given her, it was printed on there that he was an Irish gynaecologist. She had got as far as a pelvis crunching slow dance with him. What a lovely couple they made, the pretty nurse and the dishy doctor. ……
The name on his card was Dr Patrick O’Phannie and he was dancing up a storm with Nurse Sweet (that’s why my friend calls herself) and what they both had in common was nothing remotely medical, just a ‘gsoh’ and the ability to play the dating game hard and fast.
I love being a smug married when I hear what I’m missing out there.
ps: my husband thinks that gsoh (good sense of humour) stands for gas central heating