Dating? Lower than a bikini wax on my list of priorities.
Blind dating? Let’s just say I’d rather have a Brazilian – and not the hot soccer-player variety.
So the fact I’ve agreed to do a blind-date feature for Pink, the magazine I work for, and write it all up Bridget Jones style means one thing – Pink is in dire straits and this is my best shot at saving my job.
Make that my only shot because date number one is with Jack Reese – the son of the publisher of Pink – and he dislikes me as much as I dislike him.
Or at least I thought he did.