He looked like a capuchin monkey

Some dating statistics for the past 5 months:

Birthdays: 1 (now aged 30. Gah)
Wrinkles: multiplying. The stress!
Spots: bloody loads of them. The booze!
No. of men dated during this time: 9
Passion kisses (of the 9): 5. Kerrist. That’s quite a hit rate.
Dead pets: 1
Accusations of betrayal: just the 1, thanks.

However, to date I have been lucky enough to avoid any real horrors . . . Unlike today’s guest blogger who sent us the scoop on just a couple of her recent dates.

DATE #1

... within five minutes of meeting up with him he had told me that his wife had left him because of their huge financial problems where he'd lost £200,000, which understandably caused problems between them. How he'd been conducting a mental love affair for the past nine years (not physical) but that she died of bowel cancer last October. And how three days into their only holiday in twenty years his wife decided she'd rather live on her own!! I felt like slashing my wrists!! and wondered why she'd been with him at all. Then, when pressed, he admitted he was still living under the same roof as his wife....NEXT!!!!


DATE #2

This guy was a Jewish architect - but we'd managed to have a good line going on in email exchanges for a week or so, and although in his sixties I thought he looked pretty good - not suspecting of course that the profile photograph of himself was a good 25 years old!

I felt like running when I saw him tip toeing towards me - he looked ancient! I towered above him. He had the physique of a six year old, and I'm not sure whether his hair was real or not but it was very bouffant and bigger than his wizened little face which looked rather like a capuchin monkey . . .

As he has an interest in art I made the mistake of inviting him along to my stained glass teacher's private view of her glass exhibition. I'm not sure what she thought but I saw her looking. Twice!! So embarassing...