But yesterday was madness.
So. Many. People. Hit on me.
I don't usually buy coffee in town because it's expensive and I've been spoilt now on the Italian stuff, but yesterday I decided I'd treat myself.
I walk up to the counter, and the barista gives me a smile and asks how I am. Thinking this is just part of the commercial chit-chat that Pret workers probably have to learn off a script, I say I'm fine, thanks, and after I ask him the same, I order my coffee. When I ask how much I owe him, he says it's "on the house". I'm flattered and a little surprised, and he goes on to explain that he remembers me from when I last came in - in December! And he's right! Over four months ago, I came in wearing a floaty sheer black dress with a leotard underneath, he says. I remember it too, because the dress is quite revealing, being sheer, and I had never worn it out before. So I thank him, and leave sipping my free latte, congratulating myself on how great my arse looks in that dress.
As I'm drinking said latte in Trafalgar Square, another man approaches me. He's Canadian, he's flirting, and we have a funny conversation about racist policemen, and how he's obviously not from London because he doesn't know about the 'don't talk to strangers' rule.
As for the rest of the evening, I got flirty vibes from three or four more people. I really don't think I'm exaggerating either. You just kind of know, when someone is flirting with you. There's just a vibe.
When I told my mum about my strange day, she nodded sagely and said it could be because I'm on my period. Then she said something about "woman hormones" and fertility cycles. Sounds vaguely plausible, but also sounds like some mystic Amazonian tribe story. I can almost hear our elders whispering it over the embers of a fire. 'Since the dawn of time, She of the Heavy Flow and the Bag Full of Tampons has been irresistible to all who lay eyes upon her, they say...'. I don't know.
All I know is, I could get used to this.