That not-with-standing, it still annoys the pants off me (or not, as the case may be) when I'm sitting with a fella, in a pub, and a member of the 'temporary false beard brigade' tries to snatch me out from under his nose, to get me under theirs!
It happens with such alarming frequency, that I'm starting to wonder if I'm not giving off some kind of gay pheromone.
Or maybe it's because I'm every woman's wet dream?
I'd rather think that to be honest, even though, thanks to therapy, I no longer feel the urge to reciprocate.
Still, I did notice a little twinkle of hope in the eyes of my date, last night, when this happened.
So I guess that'll be the end of him, then!
