At London parties you can find plenty of smart beautiful women and handsome charming men. You can find a cornucopia of drugs and drink. And you can find someone who will sleep with you, marry you, publish you and best of all, flatter you. But what’s hard to find is someone to have a really good conversation with.

Think about it. When was the last time you went to a social event and had a really interesting conversation with a stranger? You meet someone and suddenly you click: they get you, you get them. There’s no secret agenda — sexual or otherwise — just the pure pleasure of talking.

And now that I don’t drink, take drugs or look for love, all that London parties have left to offer me is good conversation. No matter what the social occasion — a glamorous opening night or a small birthday celebration at some dingy pub — I’m always hopeful I will find one.

I even talk to the people that no one else talks to. At every party there’s what I call the Lonely Guy. He’s the one who doesn’t know anyone and just stands in the shadows sending distress signals with his sad smile.