Londoners Magazine

I’ve shown my “O” face to several men since I’ve moved to London. I’m not talking about the good “O” face, the one I involuntarily make when a bloke’s doing something I like in bed; I’m speaking of the “O” face I make when I reach the cataclysmic heights of self-induced embarrassment.

I couldn’t tell you how many mornings I’ve laid in bed horrified by what a complete and utter ass I’ve made out of myself the night before. Each time, I promise myself not to make the same mistake again - the mistake of not drinking enough to erase all memory of the previous evening.

So, why are my foot and my mouth on such intimate terms? Well, because men in England flirt in the truest sense of the definition: they’ll shower you with attention and compliments, even though there’s absolutely no intention behind it.

As is often the case, I misinterpret the harmless flirting as a signal of interest. And being a native New Yorker, I’m not afraid to act on “signals”, if they’re coming from someone interesting. Sadly, my New York forwardness doesn’t work to my advantage in London and I can often be found with my head banging against a wall- for all the wrong reasons.

Consider my most recent faux pas. I was already several drinks into the evening when I saddled up to the bar to get another. A cute guy standing there made room for me. I thanked him and waved down the bartender. At this point, the guy started speaking to me. It was typical bar banter, until it took an interesting turn: the cute guy told me he thought I was incredibly sexy. I was pleasantly taken aback. He then introduced me to his friend standing next to him.

The cute guy and I continued chatting, but he kept trying to bring his friend into the conversation. I put my mouth to his ear and said: “I have a question. Are you acting as a wingman? Because honestly, your friend seems lovely, but you’re more my type.”

My cute guy then turned to me and said: “Oh Kate. He and I are together. Understand?”

My eyes grew wide and my mouth formed a perfect circle as I said “ooohh!” then laughed and apologised profusely. The couple laughed it off and we spent the next 10 minutes discussing how my “gaydar” has been fucked up since I arrived in England.

But that’s a story for another time…