Inspired by my recent success with the missionaries, I have decided to make the phrase “I’m an atheist” a more active element in my conversation répertoire.

Saturday afternoon, my weekly coffee extravagence. Just a latte, nothing more, but I limit myself to one a week and thus the pleasure factor is heightened. An open copy of The Handbook of Modern Illustration at my side. I am obviously busy. I mean, I’m attaching post-its to various pages and cross-referencing things in the index. I couldn’t look any less open to social interaction if I tried. Unless I was covered in pig’s blood and twitching menacingly, I suppose. But then some cretin would undoubtably have approached me anyway to inform me that my trench coat was dripping onto the floor and hasn’t the weather been lovely these past few days. Alas, there’s no getting away from the fact that some people simply can’t read the “I am feeling insular” sign you have printed onto your forehead in large upper-case letters.

Unless of course…

Annoying man (late 20s? Peroxide hair in dire need of intensive conditioning treatment): Uh, hi there.

Me (taking a moment to note the fact he is wearing a tie-dyed [possibly heat sensitive – I think I remember there being a trend for that back in 1973] purple and pink T shirt):
a curt nod before pointedly returning to my book.

Annoying man: uh, sorry to bother you [well then, since you’re so sorry about it, here’s an idea for you: DON’T], but, uh, have I seen you somewhere before?

Me (looking up at him wearily): No.
Return to book.

Annoying man: Are you sure? I mean, you look pretty familiar, so..

Me: Sorry. I think you must be thinking of someone else.
Return to book.

Annoying man: Hmm, I don’t think so. I have an excellent memory for faces, and I definitely remember yours from somewhere.

Me (sensing the time for politeness has now passed): Well, I also have an excellent memory for faces, and I assure you we have never met. Have a nice day.
Return to book.

Annoying man (coming over to sit at my table, can you imagine the cheek of it): Well, I definitely remember you. I mean, let’s face it, no-one is going to forget a face as beautiful as yours. Not to mention that hourglass figure.

Me (wondering if this is what chat-up lines have come to and whether feminism was all a convuluted dream I had after one too many camemberts during dinner one evening):
Hold his eye determinedly for a minute or so.
“I’m an atheist.”

Annoying man: slinks back to his table, picks up his jacket and leaves.