05:28:32

Dates with N have always been a struggle against the universe. Last night though, the nicotine revenge hit big time. I won't go into the details. They are intensely embarrassing and intrinsically uninteresting. Suffice to say that as I pulled up at N's place, something happened beyond my control, and I could not go on the date. Knowing how desperate N was to see Sigrid Thornton, I knocked on her door, gave her my credit card to pick up the tickets, instructions on how to get to the theatre, and promptly disappeared.

I got to the play The Blue Room an hour late. What I saw was brilliant. 10 sexual encounters with different couples, played by the same pair of actors. The set design was inspired. During the sex scenes, there is a black-out with a massive digital clock timing each sex scene in fast forward.

Dinner, at what must be the best Indian restaurant in town, was divine. She was in ecstatic bliss. We talked about smoking - she smokes when she drinks, but never buys any. She zeroed in on my spiritual beliefs: "It's so rare to find someone intelligent to talk to about spirituality. I was starting to think that you had to be dumb to be spiritual."

Much later, after dinner: "I'm not done with you yet."

OK, so where can I take her now which DOESN'T sell cigarettes?

"There's a fabulous view from my place", she offered. I accepted.

When I last mentioned N to K, K said "Oh, the girl with the great arse!", and as we headed up the stairs - I noted that the view was indeed fabulous. Sadly, ethics for me, and overindulgence in the food and wine for her, kicked in when we got there. I put her to bed and left.

No sex without commitment.