This, madam, is a faithful narrative of all my dealings with Man Who Wanked In My Shower.This morning I discovered http://www.firstdatehell.com/, a brilliant Twitter feed of horrible date anecdotes and it reminded me of one of the most insane dating experiences I have unfortunately experienced.
I went "Slow Dating" a few times (basically speed dating with 4 minutes instead of 3 and supposedly full of participants looking for a relationship rather than casual dating) and met a charming, cheeky young man who worked as a project manager for a construction company.
We both ticked the "yes" box and arranged to meet for a "proper" date the following Friday - it was supposed to be dinner at one of my favourite restaurants in Leeds at the time but at lunchtime on the Friday he texted me to say that he was going to be stuck in Sheffield until 6:30 and wouldn't get chance to go home and get changed. As you will know from reading my food blog Everything Goes With Toast, I am very passionate about cooking so I asked if he would prefer to eat dinner at my house then he wouldn't have to get changed into something smart.
He accepted, and I went home to cook up a storm. He arrived about 7pm and said he was really sorry but he was all sweaty and grubby and would I mind if he took a shower before dinner. I didn't see anything unusual in his request - after all he'd been on a construction site all day and men who are hygiene conscious are usually a good thing. I actually was quite touched - he came across as considerate and eager to make a good impression.
Dinner went well, he ate everything I put in front of him and didn't frighten me off by chewing with his mouth open or shoveling food in like a pig. We even had an interesting conversation about TV programmes we liked as children in the 80s.
After dinner we moved to the couch to have a glass of wine and continue chatting but barely a second after I sat down he launched himself at me.
That's really the only way to describe it - it was like a giant, groping beast flying towards me.
I extracted myself delicately and told him he was coming on too fast - after all I hadn't given him any "I'm a massive slut, please paw me" signals and other than inviting him to my house (which was a solution to his attire issues, not a "dinner as a pretext to sex" approach) I hadn't encouraged him in any way I could discern to do anything other than talk to me.
Men take note. Unless told otherwise, a first date is for getting to know someone, demonstrating your suitability as a potential partner and you're very lucky if you manage to butter the girl up enough to get into her knickers an hour into the date. (this is not a Last Tango In Paris reference). If you want fast love, get yourself a hooker - don't date.
After being told to behave himself, I stupidly gave him a shot at redemption and asked him whether he'd seen any decent films lately.
He behaved himself for about 5 minutes before grabbing my boobs and literally pulling them out of my top.
I stood up and read him the riot act, asking him if he usually came on so strongly to women he barely knew, particularly 5 minutes after they had asked him to slow down and then the golden words came out of his mouth "actually usually I'm worse - that's why I had a wank in your shower earlier"
and there you have it. The story of how a mentalist was literally shoved out of my house at 9pm on a Friday night for wanking in my shower. I should add that this didn't even deter him. He called me twice asking me out again. In what universe did he think I would be interested eh?
You can share your dating horror stories via Twitter with @FirstDateHell.
Ziggy played guitarrrrrraaaaarrrrraaaarrrrrr.
Title: Scary Monster, Super Creeps by David Bowie