Never, ever, ever, lie to a woman

I haven't had a girlfriend since I moved back to the states from Latvia. Mostly because I was always trying to get to the UK and be a father to my daughter. I just didn't feel the need to get involved with a woman, then have to go through the drama of breaking up to move here, or abandon the dream and stay where I was. I'll be clear about this. I wasn't always 'lonely', but it wasn't the greatest time of my life either.

So, on my last trip to the UK, I went back to London to spend the night before I flew out. For some odd reason, my flight was from London City Airport. An airport on the Thames River. In London. A city that experiences more fog than any other city in the world. From an airport on the river. In London. Wanna guess what happened?

If you've never experienced a 1 1/2 hour taxi ride across the heart of London during rush hour traffic, after drinking 2 cups of coffee because you didn't know when you would be leaving and you had a hangover that would kill a horse, then you just haven't lived. Or you're not an idiot. One or the other.

But I digress. The night before, I stayed in a hotel near the airport. So, while sitting in the bar (this will be recurring them, most of my stories start with 'One time in a bar', or 'One time when I was drinking'), these two women walk in. Nice looking, in their 30's, and friendly. We all sat at the bar, and had a nice conversation. There was definitely flirting between the younger one and myself. Always a good thing. So we're talking, and as usual, I get asked why I'm in London.

As a rule, I don't lie to women. I'm not God's gift to women, and it usually doesn't matter if I lie. Women either like me or they don't. That seems awful simple, but I bet a lot of you understand that. But they asked me why I was there, and I said to visit my daughter. Then they asked me where. For some strange reason, I didn't tell the truth. Maybe because I get asked so much and it didn't really matter. Maybe because I just didn't want to talk about it. I don't know. We were in London and these women could have been from anyone in the UK.

And for some reason I said London, when its actually Bournemouth. I don't know why. I just did. I wasn't going to get laid that night. So it didn't really matter. And there was no reason not to tell tell the truth. But I didn't. I don't know why. I just didn't. And the evening went on. Very pleasant. We all had a good time.

Of course, at the end of the evening, the question came up about where the ladies were from. And it turns out they are from Portsmouth. About 40 miles from my daughter lives. Dumbass. I could have gotten a phone number and an e-mail address and kept in touch. Instead of sitting here writing this, I could have been on a date. Because she was interested. And I blew it. And she was worth the time and effort to get to know. Think Catherine Keener, but 10 years younger and a nicer body.

Hey, I'm 43 and Charlize Theron ain't gonna fuck me. But after the fact, when I found out, I couldn't change my story. That would have been pathetic and stupid. All I know is this. When women are interested, you don't lie to them. You tell them the truth and take your chances. So why did I lie to this woman?

If someone knows, please tell me?