I haven't been properly single for a long time. I was with my last boyfriend for three and a half years, and the one before him for two, and the two before him for six months each, and if I'm honest, there wasn't much of a gap between each relationship. If I'm actually honest, there wasn't any gap at all. This means I haven't actually been on the look out for hot men since I was nineteen... which explains a lot.
Last week, I was driving to work, and as I got to the bottom of my parents' driveway, this gorgeous man ran past. He was gorgeous. (And just to be clear, he was running in a keep-fit kind of way, rather than an escaping-from-the-law kind of way.) While I accept that 7.45am, while I'm in a car, isn't exactly the ideal time to meet a man, the village I live in is pretty small. Everyone knows everyone, so I was confident that I could probably track this man down later. Sure enough, mere seconds later, I saw him run past my youngest brother, who was on his way to the bus stop - and he waved at him! Score!
I then promptly forgot about the incident until a few days later while I was drinking wine on the sofa with my mum, and when I remembered, I realised that I wasn't sure if he had actually waved at my brother, or just gestured in a "thanks for moving so I can run past you" kind of way. So when I asked if he remembered a guy running past him in the street several days ago, I wasn't really expecting him to - but he did! The conversation started well (started being the operative word):
Me: Really?! Do you know him?!
Youngest Brother: Yeah.
Me: Really?! Who is he?!
Me: Callum. How do you know him?!
YB: He works with me at the brewery.
Me: The brewery. Is he nice?!
YB: Er, yeah.
Me: Excellent. Excellent. By the way, how old is he?
Nineteen? Nineteen?! WHAT? When did nineteen year olds start looking like that? Not when I was bloody nineteen, that's for sure. He looked at least my age. Older probably (I'm very youthful). But nineteen. And that's when I realised - nineteen year olds look like men now, but I can't date them. Same goes for pretty much anyone up to the age of twenty five, which means that I am going to have to be very careful indeed. Can't go round fancying nineteen year olds. No good will come of that.
NB. It is only as I write this that I realise Callum was born in the Nineties. Dear god.