Allotment Dating

I’ve had a brilliant idea, I tell Food Neurotic Friend. Allotment dating could be the perfect way to meet a like-minded partner, united by our love of local, sustainable food. They’re interested in sustainability these types, I argue, so they must be interested in sustaining relationships? And if a potential playmate can be locally sourced, all the better, saves on the road miles trekking half way across London for a man who won’t reciprocate. Food Neurotic Friend is first to sign up. Take them out, we decide, get them drunk on some high quality Devon organic cider, and then see if any incriminating evidence appears – a late-night desire for McDonalds or the kebab shop. I’ll advertise for free on the noticeboard in our local organic supermarket. But first I need an allotment. I check out the council website – there’s a two year waiting list. Food Neurotic Friend wonders if an allotment might need a late night license. I wonder if mid-winter is the most appealing time of year to be standing round in the cold making small talk about beetroot and rhubarb. Brilliant idea is on hold, I tell Food Neurotic Friend. He doesn’t even look up.