Watch out...

After finishing work yesterday, I decided I couldn't be bothered to go home before the dress rehearsal, and since it was such a lovely sunny day I thought I'd walk to the theatre. It's only a few miles as the crow flies, but I'm not a crow, had rather optimistically struck out in the right general direction without a map, and spent a fair bit of time dawdling along collecting conkers so it took a couple of hours. Over the course of this two hours I managed to get asked out three times. The first time was a pleasant surprise, and he seemed very nice, so I gave him my number. Unfortunately he then sent me a text later in the evening, all in full on txt spk, and we know how I feel about that. I should probably stop being such a stuck up cow and give him a chance though. After all, it's not as if handsome, pleasant young men make a habit of (oh look, a conker!) asking me out. The second man who approached me yesterday was neither handsome or pleasant; being seemingly incapable of hauling his eyes away from my bustline, an enterprise not aided by the fact that it was pretty much at eye level for him. Still, I offered a polite refusal and wandered on (ooooo, conker!) up the hill. Sadly I noticed nothing about the third man. He could have been my soulmate and I will never know, because by this time I was furtively looking round for hidden cameras. One guy asking me out is flattering. Two will bolster my ego for a month. Three is downright suspicious, and leads me to suspect that somebody is playing a particularly dull practical joke on me. I was half expecting Jeremy Beadle to jump out from behind a tree (is that a conker tree?) with a camera. Wait...is Jeremy Beadle dead? Hang on.....yes, wikipedia says he's dead. Perhaps the ghost of Jeremy Beadle is haunting me. What a horrifying thought.