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Published February 21, 2012

 

THE MEET

It was late 2006 and I was working at an investment bank in London, so the requisite Thursday night plan was a marathon session of gin & tonics with a bunch of bankers on Canary Wharf.  This was just one of those Thursday nights and I was with a red-faced group from a friend’s firm rather than my own.  I met lots of charming British men, who truly flock to American women like moths to a flame.  The next day, my friend said his co-worker “fancied” me, and was hoping to ask me out for the follow week.  Done and done.

THE FIRST DATE

Bowie and I were introduced via email and made plans for cocktails on Thursday evening.  Like a true Englishman, he drank his 5 G&Ts to my 2.  Then, he suggested that we move to a new venue closer to the Bank stop.  Fine by me.  Here, he ordered a nice bottle of wine and I was very impressed.  We exchanged stories – I had just finished graduate school in New York and moved to London.  Bowie had worked as a trader for a smaller prop shop after school, but was glad to be at a larger firm now.  He had a younger sister who was 17.  I had a younger sister who was 22.  Then I asked, “How old are you?” To which Bowie replied, “Twenty.”  So I said, “Twenty-what?  I’m Twenty-four.”  And he said…

“No, just twenty.”

I did win my college senior superlative for “Most Likely to Rob the Cradle,” but this was pushing it even for me.

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