Friday, August 30, 2002

Yesterday, sixish, I was going out to meet a friend for a drink in the City, and although it was sunny, I was wearing black jeans and a little - or not so little - black top. What I was wearing is not important to this story, I just like to have a full record. Anyway, as I closed my front door to the street, a guy walked past, and smiled at me. I smiled back. I realised we were flirting. I was in a hurry to get to the station, and was walking along, thinking to myself I am attractive, nice looking men are smiling at me. A few minutes later, I looked behind, and he was looking over his shoulder too. Cool. Then, as I got nearer the station, I crossed the Kilburn High Road, and as I looked right, he was still looking at me, and waved. I waved back.

What's good about this story is that (a) I am better at flirting than I used to be, and (b) it's evidence that I have returned to my maximum visibility weight (as in the highest weight I can be and still be visible). What's bad is, if he's a nutter, he knows where I live.

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