Back in the world of speed dating, our three minutes are ticking by.

"I was wondering when you were going to turn up. It's been quite a while."

Larissa I think like me subscribes to the inescapable view that sooner or later, and usually quite out of the blue, old boy friends and girlfriends turn up one day or another. It's a rule they just do. And it usually happens at the most unexpected times and places. I think tonight qualifies perfectly for that.

"Well, I've been trying not to for various reasons, which I'm sure you're probably aware of. You know for my own safety as well as for the general well being of your shoes."

Shoes? Did I really need to mention those? I'm such a fool when it comes to bringing up very humiliating incidents about myself. I guess I should explain, it seems only fair, what with everyone else already knowing the story.

Larissa had invited me to some work related party - it was Spanish themed and there was free Tequila and, well, I drank a lot of it and I'm reliably informed that I was so drunk that I held onto her arm for the rest of the evening occasionally resting my head like a dead weight on her shoulder, and oh yeah, apparently I mumbled incoherently for likes hours?

Clearly, not being quite satisfied, I didn't stop at mumbling and refusing to let go of her arm, I topped this off by vomiting on her shoes in front of about 30 witnesses who were all magically sober, I mean how does that happen? The whole magical sober thing it always gets me, I swear.

The worse part is, oh yeah, there's a worse part. The whole thing was all related to me after the fact. As I heard it, Larissa sort of half dragged me with the help of one of her strapping colleagues into a black cab and back to her place. No idea how she got me up the stairs, but I did have a few bruises the next day and I'm still not sure if this was in transit or if appalled as she was she used me - justifiable I think, we can agree - as a punch bag. When I came around it was two o'clock in the afternoon, which is when I found the note.

I should say here that normally, I would be with you and say 'she left him a note?' that's so harsh, what a bitch, but in this case I think I got just about what I deserved. The note was written in block capitals, in case as retarded as I am I should miss its meaning 'NEVER SPEAK TO ME AGAIN. EVER. EVER'. So that's the story with the shoes.

And as I say the word shoes Larissa doesn't storm off or turn all fiery and annoyed, instead she asks me to sit down.

"Are you sure?"
"Oh sit down, our date's already started," she says with a tremor of a smile.
"Oh-kay," I say.

I sit down, really slowly, in case, you know, she's joking and is really lulling me into a false sense of security so that she can throw a drink at me.

"Were you expecting a different reaction then?"
"Well to be honest yes, you know considering your last message."
"Have you still got that?"
"You know, I think I might have."
"Well, I've mellowed and besides you're one of the funnier people, sober or generally otherwise, that I know. "
"That's one of those comments that walks like a compliment and talks like a compliment, but really isn't, right?"
"That's what I mean," Larissa says, drawing her hands together.
"This is weird as dating experiences go."
"Isn't it? I have to tell you that you're three minutes are flying by and you haven't done much impressing yet."
"Yeah and about that? Nothing quite says failure like going to a dating event and failing to impress someone you have already dated and been dumped by."
"Mmm, well you have a least another 90 seconds, maybe your luck will change?" Larissa offers.
"You think? Well, considering I got Susan immediately before you, who is generally the person everyone thinks I should be going out with..."
"Gordon..."

But I interrupt Larissa and cut her off, as I know exactly what she is going to say. Did I mention that besides my mother, Larissa is the only person who calls me Gordon? And I don't know what that's about either.

"...and I followed Susan up with you. Who I've been out with. Speed Dating? I'm thinking not for me."
"No not terribly successful, but funnily enough I was thinking quite recently that it would be nice to see you again."

When she says this I have her note framed in my head: NEVER SPEAK TO ME AGAIN. EVER. EVER.

"You must have mellowed. What are you a sucker for punishment?"
"Dream on, besides I'm off at the end of the year."
"I heard."
"Oh you did? Keeping tabs?"
"No, Radio Susan. Barcelona, you're a lucky girl."
"Oh, it's been said, now lets go and get a drink."
"A drink? What about the dating?"
"Oh it's not really for me. My first guy didn't look at my face at all and my second, well, his feet hardly touched the floor when he sat down. They sort of dangled, I wanted to give him a lollipop."

With that Larissa takes a quick sip of her gin & tonic, stands and picks up her coat with me following just behind her. As we move away I look over my shoulder and back towards Adam and Susan who seem to be laughing away like two people sharing a private joke. To be honest I'm not entirely sure how much of a good idea that is, but then I turn my attention back to Larissa who is almost at the exit.

Outside of the bar Larissa is putting her coat on and I ask her where she is thinking of heading. She names a bar around the corner, which I know I've been with her to in the past. It's a basement bar off Haymarket and I seem to remember getting kind of drunk.

"Oh one thing, I should say, you know that under no circumstances would I ever go out with you again, right?"

I can't believe she's even mentioning this, I mean seriously as it totally goes without saying.

"Oh absolutely. To be honest I'm surprised you're even talking to me."

Larissa crosses her arms.

"Oh stop that. You're doing your thing."
"My thing? I don't have a thing. I'm like thingless, everyone says so, they point, you know, 'look, hey, over there, it's thingless guy'. That's me. No thing."
"Gordon you have a thing and you know it. Your thing is self deprecation to the point of overkill," and then she starts to mimic me, "I'm surprised you're even talking to me. Oh pleazzzeee."

I shrug.

"Okay, a small thing."

We walk to the bar still laughing about the whole dating experience and how we progressed from drunkenly meeting people in bars and clubs to precision organised events, which are run by people with clipboards.

Inside the bar, we order a bottle of wine, and find a table. I pour the wine and pass Larissa her glass.

"I'm kind of surprised, I have to admit," I tell her.
"And what are you surprised about now?"
"About you, being here, I always thought you were a sure thing, a slam dunk at the alter just waiting to happen, where's the marriage that's what I want to know?"
I'm laughing as I say this as I can see Larissa's face screwing up with every word I say. Larissa is not a slam-dunk kind of girl.

"Oh Gordon, a slam dunk? Do I even strike you even remotely as the kind of girl who slam dunks?"
"Thinking about it you're more of a gentle forehand than a slam dunk kind of girl."
"Gentle forehand? Oh, damn me with faint and limp wristed praise."
"Okay, well if we're playing truth, for a while there was a possibility."
"Thought so, how close did you get?"
"Well we talked about it and then I decided that no, he wasn't the one. That was a year ago."
"So what happened?"
"I woke up one day and realised that I'd been kidding myself. It dawned on me, we had really little in common, had a better than okay time and were really quite good at holding down long term relationships. Holding down somehow isn't quite enough. It was that hard making the break, but I did the right thing, but on the other side its impossible to meet people."
"I'm with you on that, I can for the life of me remember the last time that I met someone, who I wanted to go out with."
"But Gordon you are literally famous for not going out."
"True. Yeah and what's that about?"
"I'm sure I don't know."