SW4get it

I'm going to have to be careful not to reveal any identities here, but the other day, a girl I know went on a date with a boy I know. I used to know the boy quite well, but not any more. Actually, all that is irrelevant. What is important is this: within approximately ten minutes of the start of the date, I am told that the boy uttered one of the most deal-breaking, if not the most deal-breaking line, in the history of dating. Sadly it will be lost on any foreign readers, but for the London-familiar among you, feast your eyes upon the following, surely up there in the most off-putting statements anyone could ever make in any context, let alone at a time when you are meant to be wooing a girl, let alone when that girl is gorgeous and cool and unique and Hot Stuff. Are you ready? He said this:

"To be honest, I don't really ever see myself moving out of Putney."

I mean. Can you Adam and Eve it? What is so difficult is that my mother will now email me saying, "Pickle, what's wrong with that? You are too fussy." And I know why she thinks that. But youthful Faithful, back me up here. Is that not The Worst? Putney! Of all places. Surely it is the most mediocre borough in London. It excels at nothing. It is not very glamorous, or very urban, or gritty, or cool, or interesting, or cultural, or expensive, or enviable, or anything. It is just pure MOR. If it was a clothes shop, it would be River Island. Or maybe, at a push, Next. And he wants to shop in River Island. For Ever. As one of my friends pointed out, it would be blinkered enough for someone to say they were never going to live anywhere other than London. But Putney. Sigh. I do worry about people sometimes.

So that was a favourite anecdote for a while, and, I believed, a unique and special one. Until it happened to me.

I have been set up with a guy - we are going on a date next week - and in an earlier email to me, he suggested meeting in Clapham. I gently pooh-poohed the idea, saying something immensely subtle along the lines of 'I'd rather die. Please, I beg you, let's go absolutely anywhere else. Kabul, Darfur, Scunthorpe - all of them would be fine. Just not Clapham.' Then in a later email, he revealed that he lived there. In SW4. I apologised for being rude, but didn't retract my hatred of it - and he replied saying 'No offence taken: I love the place.' And I know this sounds melodramatic and possibly absurd, but my initial reaction was to want to call off the date.

Absurd or not, I simply cannot imagine falling for someone who loves Clapham. The kind of person who loves Clapham is so different to me. In fact, it is just not possible that I could love that type of person. I'll still go on the date, of course - a row over a glass of wine is still one of my favourite pastimes - but I wouldn't go dusting off your hat yet, Cilla. And mum - two of my girlfriends have agreed that they would have reacted similarly, so I'm not the only one out there who feels like this. Of course, all three of us are single and probably will be forever. But the fact remains that I'd rather be on my own than married to someone who thinks a crazy night out is a gastropub in the Old Town. Shudder.

Just you wait - I'll be walking down the aisle with a guy who lives on Abbeville Road before you can laugh in my face.