BACHELOR'S DIARY: What would you do for love?

The key to staying single is NEVER falling in love — at least not with another human. Of course, this is not news. Love is very sweet and rewarding when directed at the right subject. Take me, for instance. I love Puppy, my 10-year-old German Shepherd. Boy, does he know how to love unconditionally. But that’s me, a dog person.

Some people like cats. For the love of Adam, I’ll never understand why. I don’t think cats have the capacity to feel for anything not related to them. Or to food. Cats are the only animals I know that like to play with their food before eating it. In fact, I believe they are conniving evil creatures intent on taking over the world.

An old cliché in the West is that old spinsters keep a hoard of cats as companions. Maybe it’s a way of punishing themselves for all the other bad choices in their lives. Someone must have been hurt very badly for them to live with 25 cats in the same house.

As bad as loving a vile creature like a cat may be, people have made worse decisions in the name of love. Very bad decisions. Every other week on social media, a woman will come out crying over being hosed by a man she loved. ‘I took out loans for him, she’d say, bought him a car and designer suits, only for him to run away with a woman half his age.’ Stuff like that.

What about the videos of men proposing in public only to be shunned, or worse, insulted? Like, dude, what were you thinking? You don’t jump into a tub of hot water without first testing the temperature. Does she constantly crap on the idea of marriage? Did she ever mention how much she’d loooove to get hitched to a man of “American height”, while dating you, a midget? What about the fact that you’ve never met any of her wider clan?

Down history lane, Roman general Mark Antony abandoned Rome — and his wife, no less! – for Cleopatra. Together, they tried to create a new empire — and went to war with Rome. When defeat came, both lovers committed suicide rather than live without each other. Ouch!

In 1950s Sweden, a man named Sven Sacharias built a house covered in 1,000 mirrors pointing in every direction — so that no matter where his ex went in town, she would see his house, remember their love and come back to him. She did not return. But lucky for us, the house is now a museum.

And talking of museums, you do know the Taj Mahal is basically a very shiny tomb, right? The Mughal emperor Shah Jahan built the lavish establishment in memory of his wife Mumtaz Mahal, who died during childbirth. Mmh. Maybe I, too, would fall in love with a woman who promises to bury me in a palace. But only if cryogenics is finally a true science, and I have a chance of living again to enjoy the amenities.

I was reminded of all this the other day when I met a woman at a posh night club. As we were dancing, she whispered that she had a surprise for me. Then she tagged down her blouse and said, “Ta-da!”

Across one boob was the word “Thomas”.

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“Your name is Thomas, right?” she said.

“I prefer Tom, but yes.”

“See? If you and I started dating right now, I’d have your name tattooed on my chest. Is that cool or what?”

“No, Rebecca,” I replied frankly. “I wouldn’t want to date someone with her ex’s name scrawled across her breast!”