There was a single guy in the newspapers last week who was so sick of not having a girlfriend that he set up a stall in the middle of a busy north London spot with a big banner saying "Girlfriend wanted, apply here".

He'd given out flyers for days beforehand with a picture of himself on the front. He looked an ordinary sort of guy, not especially geeky, but said he was resorting to selling himself at the Saturday market because he was "utterly sick of the whole speed dating genre". That statement in itself was enough to endear me to him. He said no-one seemed themselves at these events, and said things they thought other people wanted to hear or would get them a date.

He went on to say how unfriendly London was and how hard it was to make eye contact with someone, let alone ask them out for a drink.

I agree. I always thought London was a place I would meet the love of my life because there are so many people to choose from. But it's no good as a romantic capital precisely because of that. It's the equavilent of going shopping at H and M where the selection is so vast it's hard to see what's what.

Living in towns outside London, I have managed to make friends everywhere I go, from a bus stop to the local gym. But in London, people seem to exist in an insular, lonely bubble which leaves us all feeling unapproached and unapproachable.

Anyway, I talked to this bloke and it struck me how similar his anxiety was to that of many of my female friends. He had been single for eight years, he said, not because he felt he was a bad or odd person but because there hadn't been the opportunity for him and that London women were so suspicious and didn't relax around men as much as women abroad did.

As I spoke with him, I began to like his idea more and more. Maybe he's going to start a trend, maybe I'll be out with the rest of the single people in Camden Lock, setting up my stall in the market.

Women always have this prejudiced idea that there must be something wrong with a man if he is over 30 and single, but he seemed like a good egg to me. When I asked him what he was looking for in a woman, he said "honesty", which seemed sweet. Maybe men aren't from Mars after all.

Anyway, we seemed to get on well and I said I thought what he was doing was a very brave thing indeed, and that maybe I'd do the same.

'Oh, are you single? , he said, and was on the verge of asking me out when I made some convoluted excuse.

The direct approach, and in his case, the searingly direct approach, is admirable and all that, but perhaps we all need to feel our perfect partner has emerged from our destinies, that fate has brought us together, not a market stall.

Published: 27/06/05