When Your Spider Senses Are Tingling…

Had a date last Sunday. It’s been a while so I was looking forward to it even though I’d been asked a couple of personal questions in an earlier conversation which had put me off. But after having to remind myself that people are entitled to a difference of opinion I decided to go ahead and meet “J”.
Initially it was for coffee but after a few conversations on the phone we decided to meet for drinks late Sunday afternoon.
As usual I had to take charge on where to go as none of these guys seem to go out anywhere past the end of their street so I chose the Northern Quarter and went to a bar I’d been in before with a different date. As we sat down J told me that he’d already googled me (I’d foolishly given him my second name when he’d asked) which knocked me back a bit.”Why on earth would you do that?” He looked a bit smug.”I always google my dates”. This wasn’t a good start but it was going to get worse. After half an hour of listening to his life story he then asked me to share some of mine but as  I started to speak he leaned closer,”How are you feeling?” I must have looked confused.”Are you relaxed? How do you think the date is going?” This was an effective way of shutting me up so I leaned back and let him waffle on. I now know every holiday he’s ever been on,what he was wearing and what he has for breakfast but every few minutes I was getting asked the same question.”How are you feeling?”
After a couple of drinks I decided I’d had enough and he looked disappointed when I refused the offer of another drink. He must have been feeling brave by then as the conversation turned to the two questions he’d asked me the week before.
This  guy has a very definite idea of what women should be/do and he’d asked me if I had any tattoos. The answer was “No I haven’t, but if I had they wouldn’t be visible.Would that be a problem?” The answer was yes it would be a problem as it was a bit of a deal breaker for him. Fair enough. The second question was had I had any work done? Again the answer was no, and this was also a bit of a deal breaker as it was something he hated and could spot a mile off. Cosmetic surgery is a personal thing and I have a couple of friends who have had a couple of minor procedures and they look great but no, he wasn’t having any of it. He then commented on my hair by saying it was clearly not my own natural colour and how was the diet going? I had nothing to lose by this point so I asked him a couple of questions of my own.”Tell me,did your ex wife work at all?” He looked surprised.”We had children so no, she didn’t.” “And is she a petite lady?” “Well yes she is actually.” I knew it.
Leaving the bar we made our way back to the tram stop which meant going through the back streets to Market Street and as soon as we got out of the bar he grabbed my hand in his which I shook off. Walking down the back streets he tried to push me up against the wall/shop window to try to kiss me. I firmly pushed him away and after the third time he shook his head.”A bit shy are we?”
I couldn’t get to that tram stop quick enough.
Two days later he contacted me and I made up some plausible story as to why I needed his second name, I then found him on Facebook and blocked him before he could find me.
And no, I definitely won’t be seeing him again.

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