Mr Perfect

We met Mr Perfect in the corner of The Leinster. He was sat there, sipping away at his wine, and looking cultured. And very, very, very beautiful.

Eventually Adam and I got chatting to him. His name was Michael, and he'd been a professional dancer ("People still recognise me from the Gina G thing," he shuddered). He was 29 but looked 19.

[Side Bar. Just googled Gina G, and discovered a fish-trawler called The Schubschlepper Gina G]

Nowadays, he's stuff like Rachel Stevens' stylist. Amongst other things. A costume designer, stylist and actor, he lived in splendid luxury in his Notting Hill studio/studio apartment with his long-term partner and their not-too-small dog.

He's working with the reviving career of Noel from Popstarz (some kind of Manchester musical told in the style of Friends but with the music of the B52s. It's called Loveshack and sounds ghastly). He shrugs, "It's not as bad as being in Cats."

We both rather adored Michael. Especially when he revealed that he'd read for a major part in Doctor Who months ago (they were looking for someone from musical theatre with an American accent). His comment was, "I wasn't that fussed about acting again, but told them my mate Billie'd love to be in Doctor Who."

He even remained calm when an almighty fight broke out in the pub. As fists flew and people screamed "Go for the face, Gordon!" Michael just raised his glass of red to the light, admiring the alchohol dribble slowly down the bowl. "I like it here. It's like EastEnders."

Outclased, Adam and I slouched off to m'club, to flirt with our favourite waitress - a mad Greek sculpture student, she's writing a comic book about an East London superhero ("Shoreditch Girl!"), and was all too happy to flit around the club for us trying to find out who there was rich, pretty, and gay.

On the nightbus home, we discovered two teenage friends of Adam's. One was carrying a folder ("I've been conducting a survey in G-A-Y. Walking up to blokes and asking 'Are you straight acting?'"). The other one had a very high opinion of himself.

PIANI (yeah, his real name): I'm like that thing in the third Indiana Jones film.
ADAM: The Ark of the Covenant?
PIANI: No, the other one.
BEARDED FILM STUDENT ON NEXT SEAT: No, that's the first film. *tuts*
PAINI: Exactly sweetheart. I'm the true Holy Grail.
ME: What? A plain, simple thing a carpenter would use?

On the walk back to the flat Adam muttered, "I think we could have had them both, you know."

I didn't care. I was still thinking of perfect Michael. We're going to name our kids after S Club 7. Except for the dog. Which we'll call Paul.