Appear homosexual I'm metrosexual, I've been told – smart, well-dressed, urbane. It's what your granddad might call "dapper". It's what some call "a bit gay." It's also an issue I’ve already discussed (Is there something Gay about me?). This afternoon my urbanity may have gotten the better of me, as I peered desperately through the gaps in the crowd, trying to see the shoes that would complete her near-perfect outfit: a crisp white blouse, a snug black sweater vest and the sort of pink skirt asking for a breeze and a blush. It was Sex and the City, it was 1954, it was almost French, but it all stood on a pair of shoes. To stare at them is bad. To comment is worse. "I love your shoes," I said. Strike one.
Reject hints I had no sooner finished my declaration of love for her shoes, blinked and they were gone. The train had pulled into the platform and without a word she was on her beautifully housed feet, literally running away to another inconveniently distant carriage. "I’ll see you on the inside", I thought, and boarded the train.
Be weird "You know, you look like somebody off TV," I started, realising that I'd have to finish. "Have you ever seen The O.C.?" I realise now that Sex and the City would have been better - anything on HBO would have been better. Hell, The Sopranos would have done. "Yeah," she said. "Something in common," I thought. "Good." Going with that I went on. "Do you know the character Anna?" She shook her head. It might be a failed compliment, I thought, but there was still room to impress her with my acute knowledge of the show. "She was introduced in episode 105 and dated Seth before he and Summer got together." Strike three. And out.
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