So I texted a friend to say I was getting a quick drink and that I might be up for meeting up later. Six hours later Bachelor No. 2 and I were still sitting at the Medicine Bar.
I was expecting to hightail it out of there after a drink, so to say the date went better than expected would be to damn it with faint praise. The night went by in what felt like a minute.
Of course, this morning I've already received a text from my friend O. – who knows Bachelor No. 2, and whose best friend dated Bachelor No. 2’s best friend (this honestly doesn’t even begin to hint at how incestuous English social circles are) – saying: “Well, well, well.”
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