BOND GIRL

Posted by Lianne Gutcher at 13:43 on 9 Feb 2010

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Scene: A hotel room.

Occasion: A dinner date.

Cast: Me, and a man who I had believed until then was an NGO worker.

I am sitting in a chair watching NGO-boy iron a shirt. We are getting ready to go out to dinner.

"So," he asks casually. "What do you do?"

We've been on a few dates previously. We've had this conversation. God. Men. They never listen.

I launch into an explanation of what I do and who I work for.

He cuts me off.

"No. I mean, what do you really do?"

Forgetful and thick.

I start over. Again he cuts me off.

"Are you a spy? Because if you are, you have to tell me right now."

I am new to this and I am definitely not a spy but I'm quite sure these things don't work like this.

"I'm not a spy," I say, though I am quite flattered though he thought I might be.

"You see," he says. "I'm not exactly an NGO-worker. I mean, I am. But I also work for the government. I might sort of be a spy. The NGO thing is a good cover."

Again, not entirely sure how these things work but surely the number one rule of espionage is that you kind of keep these things hush hush?

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I trust you. I had to tell someone. Also, if you ever repeat this to anyone, I'll deny it and tell them you are crazy. And if you are a spy, don't put 6 on to me."

I see.

So he tells me his stories. About how he's called in drone strikes, how he's handed out Viagra to the Taliban, and how he's chasing down a certain terrorist.

It was all a bit much for a girl to take in.

Do I think he was a spy? He certainly wasn't a spy in the regular mould (not that I really have anyone to compare him to). He was either a world-class superspy or a Walter Mitty character of epic proportions. I did open his closet once to find a rocket launcher and NGO boys normally shy away from those. I really don't know and we've long since parted so, to be honest, I don't really care.  I secretly hope he was. I've always wanted to be a Bond girl.

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