I always used to moan that no man would come shopping with me and enjoy it. I thought that was a bad thing and I longed for the day when a man would sweep me off my feet–a man who enjoyed shopping–a man who loved clothes as much as I do. Maybe even more.

Finally, last month, that day came. His name was Jacob and he loved shirts and jeans and scarves even more that I did. I thought my future had been made right there and then!

Jacob and I would go shopping every Saturday. To begin with it was lovely. I would tell Jacob what I thought and he would tell me what he thought. Only as time went on and our relationship developed, I realized that, shockingly, Jacob was having an affair. Not with another woman, but with his own reflection: every time we were near anything reflective he would stop and check himself.

I let it slide until one day he stopped and checked himself in a bald man’s shiny head. The image that came back was horrific and warped, distorted by the sweat on the man’s head (he clearly had a problem with Excessive sweating and Jacob could spot this a mile off). Jacob seemed to be dislocating his jaw in the reflection, which wasn’t exactly something that made me want to have his babies.

Jacob and I finished soon after; there really was no good way to end it. Now I am back on the hunt for a man who loathes shopping. My hope is that there are some left to take.