On being irresistible to toothless chain-smokers

Pain au chocolate and an apple, lime and kiwi smoothie.

The universe has a funny way of paying you back. Having bored Miss Ferguson to tears last night about seemingly no-one ever fancying me, I've just spent a three-hour bus journey rebuffing the repeated advances of a drunk, smelly, middle-aged pervert.

Perhaps it's a lesson in not overlooking what you do have. I'd forgotten in my despondency that while it tends to be the case that nice, pleasant-smelling men familiar with the norms of social interaction are largely oblivious to my charms, I am an absolute hit with chain-smoking, toothless creeps.

I suppose one should always try to be thankful for one's particular strengths (however unwanted!). There can't be many women in the world who can say there's not a single boozed-up, bad-breathed, fifty-something multiple-divorcee who can resist them...