From Platonic to Romantic?

Last Thursday, girls' night, our weekly meeting was in mid-flow and we were in deep discussion about serious current affairs -- who's dating who -- when the bombshell came.

"I'm seeing Joe," blurted one of my chums. Joe. Her platonic mate. For 10 years. Noooooo. Big mistake.

The danger of messing with platonic relationships is one of the things that make it into the "love and relationships" category under the sub-title "with age comes wisdom."  It's in there next to the sad resignation that Richard Gere isn't going to swoopin, give us a stonking big ruby necklace and whisk us away in a private jet to a life of unbridled romance. Sigh.

And we reluctantly accept that a muscle-bound dancer called Johnny isn't going to rescue us from the corner at the PTA dance where we're hiding so that no one will make us sell raffle tickets -- and yes, that's a dig to my PTA pal Jan who seems to think it's hilarious to make me dress up in a costume and huckle people for 50p to win a signed football and a fruit basket.

Sadly, experience has shown us that most platonic relationships with the opposite sex should stay just that -- platonic.

Sure there are exceptions. We've all heard stories about the occasional couple who knew each other since they were four and then were hit by a thunderbolt of devotion 20 years later and lived happily ever after.

But in the main the equation is straight forward: platonic friends plus experimental episode of naked hokey cokey equals one less name on the Christmas card list.

Apparently, our chum didn't get the memo that confusing friendship with lust rarely ends well. There was only one thing for it -- the top 10 test as featured in an article I wrote for Cosmo earlier this year.

I spent the week that it came out tottering about in high heels talking about orgasms until I realized it took too much energy to be windswept and interesting and reverted to my trusty Ugg boots and talking about what's on special at Asda.