Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy

9.45 p.m. Immediately went into meltdown. Leicester Sq. tube?? Leicester Sq. tube?? But it’s freezing. Then remembered the key dating rules.

JUST GO ALONG WITH WHATEVER HE SUGGESTS

<@JoneseyBJ @_Roxster *Purrs* Why, that would be delightful!>

<@_Roxster @JoneseyBJ *Growls* See you there, baby.>

You see? You see? So much better than trying to manipulate the situation.

9.50 p.m. Suddenly in panic re meeting stranger off Twitter at Leicester Square tube when am single mother.

9.51 p.m.

Just called Tom, who is going to pop round.

10.50 p.m Unfortunately, had to wait for opinion as Tom was having meltdown of his own about a Hungarian architect called Arkis. He insisted on showing all the texts and pictures and Arkis’s messages on the Scruff app on his iPhone. ‘Scruff is so much better than Grindr. It used to be Beardy but now it’s got more Fashion Beardy, small clothes and big glasses, but not in a George Michael sense.’

‘So what’s the problem?’ I said, in a crisp professional manner, as if I were the psychotherapist and not Tom.

‘I think Arkis might be all text and no trousers. He just keeps sending really flirty, sexual texts late at night but nothing else.’

‘I see. Have you suggested meeting?’ I enquired.

‘I said I’d like to get to know him better but I sent it at 1 a.m. because I was looking for validation and I just got the opposite of validation because Arkis didn’t reply for two days, then didn’t mention it and just started talking about my Scruff pictures again, and now I’m wandering around with this horrible pain below my ribcage because I think he thinks—’

‘I know, I know,’ I said eagerly. ‘It was exactly

like that with Leatherjacketman. It’s like the love interest assumes this huge power – like a giant standing over you in judgement, possessed of all the rules of dating competence, and about to mark you down as a desperate stalker.’

‘I know,’ he said sadly. ‘But he did say he wanted to see Zero Dark Thirty.’

‘So? Suggest you go! Durr!’ I said loftily. ‘Otherwise it’s like a staring competition of who’ll blink first.’

Once Tom appeared satisfied with the psychological underpinnings of the plan, I moved smoothly onto my own worry, at which he said crisply:

‘Of course you must meet @_Roxster, as long as it’s in a public space. Talitha says he’s fine. We’ll all be on the end of the phone. And it’s perfectly normal and healthy to meet in cyberspace.’

Love the way Tom and I swap positions at being the expert on dating mores as if on a seesaw – even though clearly neither of us has any idea what we are talking about in the first place. Sometimes it seems like just a sea of humanity out there with millions of seesaws all going on at the same time like nodding-donkeys. And everyone’s on one end or other of the seesaw at different times.

11 p.m. Heaven is rewarding me today. Roxster just tweeted again.

<@_Roxster

@JoneseyBJ It’s freezing out there, Jonesey. Shall we make it the bar at the Dean Street Townhouse instead?>

Aww. He’s been thinking about it. He’s so gorgeous and nice. Tweeted back:

<@JoneseyBJ @_Roxster Perfect. See you there.>

<@_Roxster @JoneseyBJ Can’t wait, baby.>

Tuesday 22 January 2013

133lb (still!), number of outfits tried on and thrown on floor 12, tweets sent when supposed to be getting ready 7 (very stupid), though Twitter followers 698 (advantages of live-action tweeting must be weighed against disadvantages of lateness).

6.30 p.m. Right. Almost ready. Talitha, Jude and Tom are primed about where I am going and standing by to rescue me in case anything goes wrong. Determined not to make same mistake this time and be late. Only thing is, cannot help self from tweeting as I get ready. Is almost as if I have duty to all followers to let them know what I’m doing all the time.

<@JoneseyBJ

Which is more important? Look nice or be on time? I mean, if it’s an either/or situation?>

Wow – lots of responses and @ mentions:

<@JamesAP27 @JoneseyBJ On time of course. How can you be so vain? That’s so unattractive.>

Humph. Right. We’ll see about him.

<@JoneseyBJ @JamesAP27. Is not vanity but CONCERN for others i.e. not startling or scaring them.>

6.45 p.m. Shit shit, have put waterproof mascara on lips as same Laura Mercier packaging as lip gloss and will not come off. Oh God. Am going to be late with black lips.

7.15 p.m. OK. In minicab now, still rubbing at lips. Have time for a few more tweets.

<@JoneseyBJ Calm assured – in taxi now – receptive responsive Woman of Substance . . .>