2002-10-24 - 7:55 p.m.

For me, the best section in any classified ads publication are the �Once Seen� ads, if only for their spirit of �if all else fails, then blind optimism based on nothing approaching reason will see me through�. They�re the ones placed by people who have glimpsed complete strangers on a train or whilst lurking in the hedgerow in their back gardens, and have sensed some kind of reciprocal feeling that didn�t have chance to voice itself in the crowded carriage or pitch black of night. They are relying on the astronomical odds of two things occurring: firstly, that the object of their affection will see the advert and secondly, that having been alerted to these attentions, they would skip happily down the path of insanity and follow up on it. They always read something like: �Clapham, Thursday pm. You: Tall, uninhibited blonde, slim build, exuded confidence, chatting to boyfriend about how lucky you both are never to have experienced a moment�s self-doubt in your entire lives. Me: Disturbed looking wretch in seat opposite who could barely bring his head up to stop the dribble from cascading down urine-sodden duffle coat. Sensed attraction. Coffee sometime?� Listen, me old China, the only response you�re going to get from her is when she sends the vice squad round to have you committed to some kind of sex criminal�s register. I don�t know. I expect it�s meant to be romantic but it just comes across as psycho. Of course, I constantly go through them meticulously to check that I haven�t inadvertently struck someone�s heart with a thunderbolt and they desperately want to trace me, though it�s not too likely: �You: shaven headed clod bumping into all and sundry on tube, giving off irresistible air of lack of direction, etc, etc.� A boy can dream, though.

Brit corner: Isn�t Max Cl*fford�s career now just money for old rape?