Can a single woman over 30, who smokes too much, drinks too much, and has a tendency to say whatever comes into her mind, find her place in the world... and a man? Bridget Jones is an assistant at a London book publisher, feeling time pass her by. When Daniel Cleaver, her boss, starts flirting with her in a vulgar way, she plunges straight in. An affair ensues and she's head over heels. She also keeps running into Mark Darcy, a reserved even stiff barrister who has known her since she was a child young enough to frolic naked in his wading pool, seems to look down his nose at her, and hates Cleaver (truth is, Daniel may be a bit of a bounder). What are Bridget's choices?
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