Disastrous Dates

mardi 12 février 2019

I can't believe this hasn't been done on here before, but - as proposed by El Aguila and seconded by Golf Boy - this is the thread to recount your dating disasters, whether single events or a sequence. And since I was asked to kick it off, I'll contribute a very tame one, which is all I can immediately remember after the passage of years:

Sitting at my office, minding my own business, one day the 'phone rang. On answering a female voice said that she was a work colleague of a female friend (who was renting a room at my home at the time) and would I like to go out for dinner one evening ? Reasoning that my friend was very unlikely to stitch me up, I accepted with all the coolness I could muster (probably not much). I quizzed my friend that evening, who was a little evasive, but assured me that my mysterious date was very attractive. Given that she sounded very up-market, I booked somewhere nice to go (the Criterion on Piccadilly Circus, if memory serves me correctly) and turned up bang on time. Initial impressions were good - she was very attractive and charming. However, the evening started to go downhill when I realised that she wasn't looking at her menu - when I asked why, she said that she suffered from food envy, so would just have what I was having. At this point, I must have sought confidence in couple of quick glasses because I then received a lecture on how she didn't drink - for the wholly-understandable reason, tbf, that both her parents were alcoholics. This left me in something of a quandary because I had already ordered a bottle of something nice and was of an age where I hated "wasting" drink on principle. I therefore tried to surreptitiously drink the entire bottle myself quickly to get it out of the way which, with hindsight, was the wrong thing to do, because not only was it probably more obvious to my companion than I fondly believed, but my fine sense of judgement may have become a little cloudy. Although I thought we were having a great time, my companion became more and more edgy, to the point that I realised she was actually rather odd (although my own behaviour was undoubtedly not helping). She also, clearly, did not like my food taste, which led me to, belatedly, fear that she may also have suffered from an eating disorder. My efforts to make light conversation were becoming more and more strained, and I soon abandoned my original idea to take her on to a second venue. Finally, as I walked her to a cab, more out of politeness than anything I asked her if she would like to meet up again, and was very firmly put back in my box.

My friend was very apologetic when I returned home, explaining that the girl had pestered her for my number despite having never met me. That was my first and only experience of a blind date.

Hopefully others can come up with more interesting revelations from their youth. For some reason, I am particularly fearful of contributions we may get from little Al & Stella ...


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