So many men...

...so little time...

Having spent the last 3 weeks of May planning my post-exam social calendar, I am now completely exhausted. I'm not complaining, but I wish I had had the foresight to pencil in some time to sleep!

After a week of university reunions, tube strikes and wine tastings, Friday night was my night out with the short Ribero del Duero man. To put the height thing to bed, I wore my usual heels just to see how odd we would look and arrived fashionably late to our rendez-vous. He had been really excited about taking me to a bar he knew, and being a man in the wine industry, I naturally had high hopes. He showed up even later than me wearing the same clothes he had been wearing the first time we met. We walked round for ages as he wasn't quite sure where we were going. He finally found his bar and my heart sank - it was Waxy O'Connors. I had lost the will to argue by then so just went in and asked for a house white. He then proceeded to talk me through the noses and bouquets in my glass of house wine from Waxy O'Connors. The whole while I was looking down on him thinking my life had reached new lows. The last time I had been here was 12 years ago for my first under-age alcoholic drink. It's a funny old life...

After this car crash of a foray into dating, my friends and I were out for someone's birthday on Saturday night in South Kensington at one of those nouveau bars where you hope someone else is picking up the tabs. As usual with these places, the heating was up high to encourage alcohol consumption so I was driven to stand outside for a while with the smokers. There was quite a commotion as an American banker had refused to pay his bill and the waiter had taken him outside to get the money. Now, the waiters at this place are known for their guns - the house special is a watermelon martini where the fresh watermelon is put in a shaker with ice and broken down into liquid from vigorous shaking alone. There were punches thrown and the police were called. There was quite a crowd gathering and an American man started chatting to me about what was going on. The incident was resolved, the banker's friend paid his tab and his friends started to drag him down the road. He then turned round and yelled out for Brad. Turns out that whilst the banker was being hit by the waiter, his best friend, who is a lawyer and could no doubt have been quite helpful to his cause, was hitting on me! What a great guy - I have all the luck!

More Vino?

On Friday, a few colleagues and I were invited down to the International Wine fair (held in the same location that my exams will be in a few weeks!) for 'business' and we carefully selected a 4pm slot so as to have some time afterwards to enjoy the rest of the fair. There were wine producers galore from all over the world, and we were more than happy to sample their wares.

As a big supporter of European trade, I hit the old world stalls with a vengeance and found a small Spanish producer of Ribera del Duero - Rioja's lesser known sibling - which I absolutely love. Even better, the guy on the stall was gorgeous - deeply tanned with dark hair and these amazing long eyelashes that were tinted blonde at the tips (no doubt from all those hours spent under the sun tending the vineyards...). In his broken English with a beautiful thick Spanish accent, he was telling me the history of the 'terroir' in Valladolid but he could have been saying anything to be honest because all I was thinking was... how short is too short? Granted my sense of perspective may not have been 100% at the time, but I'm pretty sure eye-contact involved no head tilting.

He's offered to take me out next week but I'm not sure I want to date a guy who affects my choice of shoes. On the plus side, and this is a big plus, I will probably never be short of wine!

Recession dating

Another effect of the financial crisis has been the change in the dating scene. Gone are the days when 2 girls out at a wine bar in the City could almost guarantee being offered a drink by some well heeled banker - they are much more calculating over their discretionary incomes now. Also, there's probably a lot less of them around. Bankers are either moving on to pastures new - the cheese shop they've dreamt of running, the new start in a new country or even moving into teaching where bankers are being offered a fast track option to lessen the shortage of science/maths teachers - or they are even more tied to their desks as the fight for survival gets tougher and tougher.

I've always been a big believer in opposites attract so have generally tried to avoid dating anyone in finance. Can you imagine how dull life as a couple would be if your common interest was limited to work - especially if you work in an industry that encourages high competition and high stress. Plus now there's the added risk of both of you being unemployed. No no, the best piece of advice now would be diversify your assets and spread away those risks...

The man I am currently pretending not to like is a government employee (safe as houses!) - and this is the first time I have dipped my toe in Her Majesty's pool (so to speak). I always say I am far too mature and sensible to be dealing with boys who play games, but secretly I love all this will-he-won't-he-call-me angst. The James Bond affair has been one hell of a long game, I think we've met up all of 6 times in the last 8 months but he's incredibly witty and very confident. He came to meet me after work one time, to have a drink I thought, but he took me to this small museum which has recreated a London house in the 18th Century (sight, sounds, smell - the lot). You walk from the servants quarters in the basement all the way up past the kitchens, living room to the top floor bedrooms and you're not allowed to talk. I never even knew it was there - I love that he is so different.