Plus one

I've been invited to a dinner party. A rather grand one to be given by a woman I know slightly. The invitation says 'plus one', only I don't have a plus one. None of my on-liners is remotely suitable. No doubt if I advertised via the dating site 'does anyone want to come to a posh do' I'd get a couple of offers, but I'd run the risk of them being nothing more than free-loaders, without table manners or conversation. So I respond to the invitation and explain I'll be attending on my own. My would-be hostess almost explodes. I can't possibly come alone, she tells me, because that would make the numbers uneven.

I wish I had the chutzpah to say say that if I'm not welcome for myself alone then the last place I want to be is at her bloody dinner-party, but of course I merely say that in that case I must refuse.

"I'll put you down as an apology," she says in a supercilious tone.

"No, please don't. Put me down as a refusal. I'm not apologizing for the fact that I don't have a man hanging off my arm."

I'm safe from invitations from her again (can you imagine the ghastly people who'll be at her dinner-party?)

My little triumph is short-lived - I open this morning's post. A holiday brochure advertising wonderful holidays in places I want to visit. The prices are as always, "per person based on two sharing". The single supplements are an additional 50% -70%. I sling the brochure in the recycling bin.