Y'know this subject puts me in mind of the occasion when I was dating a *schoolteacher (yes ...
*ANOTHER one!

) for a short spell during my 17 years of widowhood. Things appeared to be ticking along nicely ... until one evening over dinner, when she suddenly glanced furtively across the table and ... with an embarrassed look on her
face - which simultaneously assumed a
redd(ish) hue - announced in a barely audible whisper: "I really love going out with you, Arthur ... but would ... um ...

... like us to have a platonic relationship!"
Now, it's not as if
either of us had ever [previously] broached the subject of

... (well ...

... you
don't, do you?) but I seem to remember thinking: ...

...
"what's the point in
that? ...

... hell, I
might as well be spending my evenings
down the pub with my
same sex friends!!!
