Date 139

"Who comes sliding down the banister?"

I'm all for a date being informal but I've never known anyone go to such little effort when supposedly trying to make a good first impression on someone. In fact if I ever write a book about dating (unlikely as I'm clearly so rubbish at it) then this would be covered in the chapter 'How not to get a second date.'

Initially this teaching assistant by day/polercise instructor by night had said she'd drive to Brighton to meet me but as she wouldn't be able to drink I told her that it was ok for me to get the bus to Eastbourne (where she lived) if she wanted alcohol. This was a bad plan on so many levels. It took me about 90 minutes door to door to get to her and as I've only been there a couple of times, I let her choose the venue.

To my horror upon arrival, she'd picked the shittiest Wetherspoons imaginable (this is a bit unfair as I once went to one in Kingston in which I was scared to go to the loo on my own), and this pretty much set the tone for the night. She informed me that she was coming straight from teaching a class, so I assumed she'd have had time to shower; but no. Up she rocked still in her sweaty kit and super-greasy hair (which in fairness was a common look in that pub that night). When I went in to kiss her on the cheek by means of a polite greeting, there was a smell emanating from her which I couldn't tell was B.O. or her really bad teeth.

I went to the bar to get us drinks and she ordered a pint of lime and soda, which came to a princely sum of 80p; so she wasn't having alcohol. We then ventured upstairs and before we'd even sat down she'd seen someone she knew and gone over to chat to her at another table. She was there a good 5 minutes and I was fully prepared to walk out at this complete lack of manners and awareness. As I'd just started my pint of Guinness, I decided to stay. When she did eventually wander back to me, I couldn't get a word in edge ways. Every time I tried to say something she'd turn the conversation round to something that had happened to her.

After about 20 minutes her friend then came over to our table and started chatting to her. At this point I went to the bar to down a JD & coke, as she was still on her lime and soda. I then popped to the toilet and upon my return, told her that I needed to get my bus home. Who would have imagined that an evening with a poledancer could be so dull!