So I am in love with a complete stranger, again.

Posted by Lucy Robinson at 02:05 on 29 Jul 2010

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A friend wrote to me recently:

Robinson,

Given that you seem to have stopped emailing me and pretty much everyone else back in London, I am having to read your blog to find out what you're up to. And, dear girl, I am none the wiser. You have talked only of men and drinking. Is there anything else going on out there? Can't you tell us even a little bit about your new life?

Seriously now.
Sarah X

She has a point. I have undertaken a life change of ginormous proportions and yet, somehow, I have managed only to discuss only my love life, give or take the odd snapshot of the man who eats platters of chips, rice, eggs and bananas in my hallway.

(For those who recently joined me, my 'love life' out here has thus far offered up several really quite decent possibilities but, rather disappointingly, not one of them has come to fruition. The reasons for this have been various - attached, short, not interested in me - but I do rather feel that I have failed. My plan by now was to be having a rampant affair with a passionate porteno but the closest I've got to hide-the-sausage recently was a bit of unintentional frottage on the bus on Monday morning.)

I will tell you what I'm doing soon, I promise. But this began as a dating blog and for that reason I am going to have to continue in that vein... because, as per BLOODY usual, I have managed to develop a huge crush on a man I have never met. Let's just review that: oh yes, it appears that I have a crush on a man I have never met.

His name is Michael. He called me on Thursday last week to offer a job. He had a sexy voice. I couldn't help myself, I threw in a bit of banter. He threw some right back. We bantered for a good, er, three minutes, until it was clearly time for the call to end. He was offering me a job, after all. As we began to say goodbyes I prayed for a miracle and a miracle came. "We should meet up anyway," he said casually. "Coffee. Wine. Something."

Sweet Jesus, I thought, thank you. (And then: get a grip you gigantic loser; you don't even know what this guy looks like. STOP IT.)

I mumbled something that went along the lines of 'yes' and ended the call. Half an hour later I was back at my flat and before I even started boiling my rusty old tin kettle I was on facebook.

Guess what? He is hot. REALLY HOT. Having now watched myself in a bloomin documentary (or, rather, watched the excellent Claire Wood portray me so painfully well) I have resolved to try to cut down internet stalking a little so I left it at his profile picture (which was enough, let me tell you) but I am now in a state of mad excitement and once more can feel my sanity slipping away.

We are meeting on Monday. It is Wednesday now; I have five days to turn myself into a woman of mystery, wit and transcendent beauty.

Everyone in Buenos Aires does an evening class in something. I am going to go and find an evening class in seduction.

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