On a Personal Note …

In which The Author finds the perfect song to sum up an abortive relationship

Yesterday I spent a large chunk of the morning talking online to the girl to whom I referred to at the very end of ‘From A Land Down Under’.
Jenny and have seen each other precisely four times since our first meeting, back in March. She said she wanted to take things gradually, but averaging one encounter a month is practically retrograde motion. We spend a fortune texting each other, and hours talking online, where she lets her imagination run wild. However, when it comes to meeting face to face, she has more excuses for not showing up than Arriva Train Wales could ever dream of.
Now I’m wondering whether this is going anywhere, or whether I should try and turn my attention to one of the other two women who’ve become interested in me recently.
I was thinking about this in the pub last night, waiting in vain for her to turn up – or even to have the decency to let me know if she wasn’t coming. In true Simon Bates tradition, I narrowed Our Tune down to two possible candidates. One was by the Pet Shop Boys: ‘You Only Tell Me You Love Me When You’re Drunk.’ The other was by the Kinks. But as I’m currently listening to Sounds of the Sixties on Radio 2, I’m afraid Ray Davies has just taken the first place.

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