This, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason I am single.

On Saturday night two men attempted to chat me up. The first was a tiny, creepy man in the pub. He approached me to tell me that he found me really attractive, mostly because I was clearly the kind of girl who would never look twice at a guy like him (I couldn't fault his accuracy), and he found that sort of thing really hot. The second was even creepier. He approached my friend and I while we were in a side street near Trafalgar Square; me, sqauatting in a corner having a crafty wee before getting on the night bus, my friend holding out her coat to afford me some modicum of modesty. We sent him on his way, that not being a moment at which one is particularly inclined to have an in depth conversation with a stranger, but he followed us back to the main road, seemingly with the sole purpose of telling us we were beautiful. Perhaps he had more to say but, as we told him (nice and clearly so it sunk in) to go away, we will never know.