There was this time I went out on a blind date. OK, not totally blind, because I'd met this guy on the Internet, and had sort of seen pictures. But this is back in the day when Internet dating only first kicked off and digital cameras weren't what they are now. Anyway, you get the picture - the photos weren't that clear.
I thought it was a bit weird that when we were corresponding the guy kept on asking how tall I was, making a real big deal out of it. In one email he said he even got out a measuring tape to convert (I only knew in cm's and he only knew in feet).
Well my question was answered when I arrived (a bit late) at the fancy restaurant he had booked for us - he was tiny. OK, not that I have a problem with short guys, but I'm short for a woman, and he wasn't much taller. That and the fact that the guy was old enough to be my grandfather - early 60's at least - I was in my early 20's. In emails prior to meeting up he'd said he was older, but didn't give out any specifics. I quite like older men, so it wasn't really something on the forefront of my mind, and I just assumed he'd be in the age category I had specified in my profile criteria. Well, let me just say this, there's older men and then there's just old. And this also has a lot to do with how much a guy looks after himself, his dress sense, his outlook on life etc.
Dinner was long, drawn out and awkward as hell. We had zero things in common and the guy was really boring and from a totally different world and generation to me. He also had this habit of making a sort of 'hmmmm' sound when he looked at me across the table which was totally creepy. I'm not sure if it was a nervous tick or if he thought it was a sexy kind of thing to do. At one point I had a brief vision of those small old hands touching my bare skin and I wanted to run out of there screaming.
If a friend had told me this I would have said to her, why didn't you just leave? And the thing is it was such a fancy place, with the...
Please join StudyMode to read the full document