She's called Natasha and she lives next to me. She is not a man. Got home after a visit to the not-so-new any more Saatchi Gallery with lovely L, to bastard bass from hell in my flat. Decided that only thing for it was to stride round and say hello. So I did, and wasn't even nervous, I mean, what's the worst that could happen?

I did lie dramatically by saying that I'd been away and was she new here and I'm sure she didn't realise but the bass on her music was really loud.

And she had to get out of the bath to answer the door.