I'm becoming a compulsive matchmaker these days. In spite of being unreasonably choosy for myself, anything goes when playing Cupid for my friends.

I find myself computing at lightning speed a single friend's potential compatibility with any nice, hapless strangers who cross my path.

It all came to a head after I decided to resort to a bit of alternative therapy in my war on persistent winter viruses. Deciding I'd give acupuncture a go, I knew there was mileage in it when I overheard my handsome acupuncturist telling the receptionist about his weekend spent climbing.

I immediately embarked on a plot to get him together with a friend who had just gone on her first hill walking weekend. She's seen Touching the Void, she's going to LOVE him, I thought. Before long I was imagining them with their beautiful, nimble-footed children in matching cagoules with a Sound Of Music backdrop.

He was telling the receptionist about the place he lived in on the edge of a forest with friends! So, no partner, well, not serious enough to live with anyway. What a promising little package.

Later that day I began selling him to my friend with the tenacity of a timeshare trader. I remembered, at the last minute, to mention his two kids and the fact I wasn't totally sure that he was single. She suggested I set up a blind date.

At the next acupuncture session, I tensely waited for the ideal time to introduce the whole "private life" subject into a consultation.

At this point, and to my horror, the softy-spoken acupuncturist told me he was upping the ante and, with a slight smirk, brought some sinister- looking needles close to my nose. Suddenly, I wasn't sure he'd make a humane father to my friend's children.

He proceeded to give me metal whiskers right in my line of vision, topping it all with a third needle, like an elongated bindi, right between my eyebrows. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, any thought of matchmaking right out of the window as I sweated through my 30 minutes "chill-out" time.

After what felt like an eternity, the acupuncturist came back to de-whisker me. Weepy and unable to look him in the eye, I muttered my thanks and scarpered.

I called my friend that evening and told her he had sadly turned out to be a sadist. I felt a failure.

But not to worry. I've spotted this guy with a nice smile who works in my local bagel shop. It's such a coincidence - my friend LOVES bagels. They must be meant for each other...