Was bought lunch in the East Village yesterday at Yaffa Café (note to self must not go to same place all the time) by an English man I dated briefly at the end of last year. Perfectly pleasant company, lots of industry gossip, but I kept getting distracted as I stared at him across the café table. Sure he’s sporting a rather, um, directional, hairstyle at present, and a pair of oversized Ray Bans weren’t helping matters any, but I was completely & utterly gobsmacked that I had ever fancied him. Funny how tastes change.