Anna and the Oysters

London has many fine restaurants and I have always managed to combine my Sugardating with exploring them further.

I’d much rather be sampling some of the finest food and wine on the planet with my Sugardate, than the dull, hard-nosed and frankly, uncivilised corporate Americans that I usually have for lunch company.

So, it was off to a famous Mayfair seafood restaurant for my meeting with Anna.

Anna is a 27 year old business Masters student from Atlanta, somewhere in the pre-date chat I’d neglected to ask where she was from, so to be greeted with the accent of a southern belle took me back slightly.

No matter, she is tall, blond and immaculately turned out, so a good start, most of all, she was bang on time.

The chat was easy and we got on well, I was getting some warm vibes and all seemed to be pointing towards moving it on.

Then came the oysters.

Seeing a woman eating oysters should usually be a slightly erotic experience, however, Anna didn’t simply eat them, she obliterated them.

I have never seen anyone devour them so greedily, worst of all was the noise…

By this time the chablis had started to kick in and Anna then became slightly, how shall I put it, loosened up.

By the time I’d heard her views on gays (“the work of the devil”) and denigrating anyone who didn’t seem to be a card-carrying member of the KKK, I was done in. It was all rather like being trapped in a Channel 5 documentary.

I felt I’d spent my lunchtime with a rabid southern baptist preacher, who’s forever changed my opinion of the seductive quality of the oyster.

I fear the search goes on.

Don’t be late…just a tip

OK, I know I’m not Richard Branson, just a partner in a moderately successful business, but my time is precious and I really don’t want to waste it waiting for a first date who turns up late.

Monday’s lunch date, Anna, has emailed to say, “I may be a little late as I’m seeing a friend first thing”….

Well, having been kept waiting by prospective Sugarbabes before, I can tell you that it’s something that leaves me cold.

Sure, you could get trapped on the Underground, witness an accident, or have some other calamity befall you, but please, please, don’t try and fit me in and arrive late.

It’s mainly a manners thing, but if you’re hoping to pitch yourself as a reliable, hassle-free Sugarbabe, you’re going to have to really work hard to win me round.

Just saying.