Two Best Friends andand Me

Evan was the guy I met on the singles cruise to Athens, and Mason was his friend.

“How are you liking the cruise so far?” he goes to me when we’re at the bar waiting for a drink.

It’s a terrible chat up line but he’s tall, looks like he knows a thing or two about rugby scrums, so I answer, “yeah, it’s alright,” and return his smile.

My mother thinks I have an addiction. Not to alcohol or porn – although those would probably be better because they’re less expensive – but to singles cruises. It’s my third one this year. There’s no better way to explore the world than on a cruise. My feet like to keep moving. Do Jet2 package holidays really expect me to be stationary in one resort for a week and be OK with that? No.

Seafaring adventures are more my cup of tea. Nothing beats lounging in your newest bikini on a sunlounger and falling asleep to the gentle rocking of the boat. You tan better out at sea too.

To escape the cold, British winter, I cruise.

To get the most out of my annual leave, I cruise.

To get over a boy?

Cruise.

Solo is the way to go. Forced out of your comfort zone, you’re more inclined to talk to people, and besides, you can only book for one when you’re on a singles cruise, so you’re all in the same boat…

I’m at the bar staring into the eyes of the next Martin Johnson wondering when he’ll buy me a drink. That’s when his friend Mason joins us. They’re the same height, and both of them look down at me and smile. It’s like I’m in the company of Hades and Zeus, one the epitome of all that is right in the world, blonde hair, blue eyes – that’s Evan, and he might as well be wearing a halo on the crown of his head. Mason, on the other hand, even in smiling, looks like he has a few tricks up his sleeve. His eyes are a sort of amber that, in the red LED lighting, turns them a similar shade of red. Lucifer, he looks like, with his staring eyes and canine-prominent teeth. My heart skips many beats.