Unable to see my tall blonde city slicker, I walk past the bar in search for him.
From the corner of my eye, I spot a small creepy man hiding in a doorway. Tightening my grip on my bag whilst feeling for my perfume to act as pepper spray and reaching for my keys ready to jab him in the eye. I pick up my pace as this small podgy man begins to lurk out of the shadows…..aaahhh following me! Great, where the hell is my date?
Walking faster as I search frantically for my phone, I hear my name being called from behind me…Oh god please don’t say that creepy man is my date?!
Spinning round on my heels and almost falling headfirst into the pavement at the sight of him, where is my tall blonde slicker? Instead I’m met by a podgy dark haired bloke barely reaching 5’3”, What the fuck!
Walking into the nearest bar and feeling everyone’s eyes on us, to the point that i can almost hear them saying ‘internet date’- I don’t think I have ever felt this level of mortification before, I am actually in pain.
Trying to flag down the barman, I feel something pressing against me from behind. Is that him? Is he actually doing what I think he is doing? Yes, he bloody is! He’s rubbing himself up against me like one of those horny little yappy dogs. Eurgh! Best not to leave my drink unattended around this one.
Checking the time for my next train and mentally making my escape plan, just perfect my train is delayed! Sucking the life out of my double vodka, to block out the bizarreness of this situation and still in shock – staring at him in disbelief as he looks nothing like his pictures!
I move onto my second drink (only another 30 minutes until my train comes in). He suddenly begins talking to me as though we have been in a relationship for 2 years?! ‘Why don’t you answer my calls?’ ‘Why didn’t you call me back?’ ‘You go out too much’ ‘You need to start staying in more’
Clearly picking up on my are you being serious face, he shifts tactics and launches into a full blown verbal attack at me. ‘You are rubbish’ ‘Your hair looks crap’ ‘You are weird’ ‘you’re a proper dumb blonde ain’t ya’
Struggling to hold back the urge to slap him all the way to china. Deep breaths in deep breaths out….When he goes to the toilet – I am running.
Great! He’s back already, WTF! Not only am I on a date with a 28 year old man that has the flirting skills of a teenager. He may also be a Guinness World record holder for the quickest pisser in the world, fuck.
As he leans into whisper in my ear, my whole body contracts with repulsion. ‘I’ve got an erection’…Actually vomiting into my own mouth.
Wretching, as this vile man sits back in his chair, looking exceptionally proud of himself, he declares that next week ‘he’s gonna take me out proper’. Oh lucky me! How is he not picking up on my body language? Or even recognising my disgust?
Explaining I was just going to go out for a cigarette and he should man the table, I grab my bag and dash at high speed to the door!
Standing outside in freedom and feeling like Maria in the Sound of Music as I spread my arms open-wide, only rather than mountains as my backdrop it is the murky polluted air of London, drunken people throwing up next to me and a concerning amount of chicken bones by my feet!
Out of nowhere two letchy hands slide around my waist, pushing the sleaze away as he attempts to grab my face and shove his tongue down my throat, I wriggle myself free and run.
I have not answered any of his 6 times a day phone calls or replied to any of his messages – there’s been a lot! He then strangely decided that the best course of action was to send me pictures of his unhealthy looking penis – I am now mentally scarred for life…as I imagine anyone is who has also had the misfortune of seeing that sight!
His number is now blocked.