13. The Colour Blind Experiment

I have a date tonight! Let me give you a little background info...

Last week was London's Metal Exchange week - there were parties and dinners going on and my workplace was throwing one of them. It was a Monday night - I planned to go along to the party at the Four Seasons Hotel for an hour or so - be polite, sip a cocktail or three and go home. Instead I got there, realised that a. I had nothing to talk about to these people and b. there was a very large free bar stocking my best friend - Absolut Vodka. My option was clear - to get a little drunk!

Two hours, and a good few drinks later a man I work with asked me along to another party at The Cuckoo Club - now I had heard of this, and somewhere through my drink-fuddled brain all I could think (and unfortuantely say) was "Prince Harry's a member there - let's go! We might meet him!" (I LOVE Prince Harry!) Me and the man I barely know from work decide to walk to the club bumping in Nigel from Eastenders of all people on the way - I mean - what is he DOING? Anyway - a couple of minutes of walking and random turns later we realise we both thought we knew where the other was going - when in fact, neither of us had a clue. (this may give you an indication to the amount of free alcohol consumed) We eventually got into a taxi and found out where it was. (it's just off Regent Street in case you were wondering)

The party there was hot. A tonne of guys in suits, a funny Japanese man asleep on a chair and another FREE BAR! I had clearly struck gold that night! Me and Work Boy drink and talk, talk and drink and he's pretty funny! We go to the bar (again) and I point out an absolute HOTTIE! Work Boy makes me talk to him and although I act like it's the last thing on earth I want to do - I am secretly pleased. We exchange numbers and email the very next day.

* In case you were wondering I was v ill that night, was sick in my hair and had to get up to get back to London about six hours after I had got to sleep. The moral of the story - don't abuse the free bar!

I found out he is 22 (yay - for once not an old granny - is only a year older than me!) is a Trader for a foreign bank (cher-ching!), lives in Docklands (handy for work) and is totally hot (genetically pretty children)! We met for lunch on Friday and I was dreading it ALL DAY. Don't know why, is the first time I have ever seriously thought about standing someone up - but I didn't - and had the best time! We got on really well, and I actually fancy him! Something that is rare since I met The Footballer.

We have arranged to meet again tonight, AFTER work - apparantly this is so he has more time to chat to me - woo hoo! The only fly in the ointment is that he's not alot taller than me - but hey, you can't have it all! Well, if I'm honest that's not the only problem...

You see, here's the tricky situation. Both the Footballer, and this guy - The Trader are both black. "What's the prooblem?" I hear you cry? Exactly! What is? Well if you have your mum and her uneccessarily racist boyfriend not to mention terribly old-fashioned grandparents then yes, it kind of is a problem. (I can't belive I am writing this in 2006 from one of the most advanced cities in the world, get me Jane Austen on the phone and hand me my quill.) I mean, what millenium are we in? It's one of those things you never think about until you suddenly find yourself in the situation. When I started seeing The Footballer, suddenly racists from within the family come crawling out of the woodwork. It's shocking. My mum has NEVER been like that - but recently (like, last month) her boyfriend of ten years and us all moved in together in a new house - and NOW... well now it's a problem.

I have to be honest this is an issue that has been troubling me ALOT of late. For some reason unbeknown to me black guys are attracted to me - more often than white. I don't choose it, I don't bring it on and I don't ask for it. It happens. Last New Year's I was in a club in London and some girl in the toilets came up to me (didn't know her) and said - "Do you know you've got a black woman's ass on a white girl's body?" I didn't know what to say; "thanks?" Give her a slap? I didn't know. Apparantly though - this girl got it right - and that's the secret. I don't especially prefer one to the other - that's the thing with me - I genuinely don't see a difference. If I like someone, I like someone. As they say - Love is blind.

That's why I am keeping The Trader close to my chest - I am giving away very little and conducting a little experiment. You see, I am usually way too honest for my own good but this time - I am going to pretend to my family that The Trader's white. That's right - I am going to give my mum the usual feedback after dates, and although she's never met him she will grow to like him. If we carry on seeing each other I will leave it right up until the last minute for as long as I can until I tell her the truth. A cruel trick to entertain myself or is there a method behind my madness? I have tried to talk my mum round until I'm blue in the face but she can't see the error of her ways or the absoulute nonsense of her views - she has to see for herself, and I'm going to make sure she does.