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5th July 2018
05:44pm BST

I cannot, dear reader, give you a logical explanation as to why I did not recognise that I was on the world's worst date with the biggest arsehole in the entire world.
I can only blame the excessive intake of alcohol and my own incorrect assumption that things would only get better as the night went on.
They did not.
8.00pm: I arrive to the date venue and hang by the bar. He is late.
8.15pm: He arrives and does not apologise for being late. He orders himself a drink, not asking if I want anything. I already have a drink in my hand but that is beside the point.
8.27pm: He makes a sexualised comment about the appearance of another woman across the bar then looks at me and says "Sorry, Jade."
8.30pm: We talk about work.
8.41pm: I have consumed 2.5 cocktails and as I have not eaten nearly enough food throughout the day, I am ever so slightly (very) tipsy.
9.00pm: Dinner.
9.01pm: I discover that dinner is taking place in a restaurant that serves exclusively meat. I am a vegetarian. I was aware of this decision prior to the date, however I assumed that, like most eateries, this place would offer a substantial non-meat option.
I was wrong.
9.05pm: He orders a bottle of wine and asks that I take Boomerangs of him pouring the wine "for the lads."
9.06pm: I take Boomerangs of him pouring the wine "for the lads."
9.29pm: My 'vegetarian option' arrives to the table. It is a deep bowl of leaves with balsamic vinegar. That's it. He asks really loudly and aggressively why I don't eat meat. He mentions it at least four more times as I eat my bowl of grass.
9.41pm: I finish my hearty meal. I am still hungry.
10.00pm: Dinner is over.
10.10pm: We make our way to the bar for more drinks. We stand among a group of people while getting said drinks. He asks, loudly, "So are you coming back to mine or not?"
10.11pm: I say nothing.
10.12pm: ... And then decide that I might as well because how much worse could this night really get?
10.35pm: We shift outside the bar by a window because that's absolutely far less conspicuous than just shifting inside of the bar. He says: "I hope you're as good at giving head as you are at kissing."
10.45pm: I get in a taxi and go home alone. He later tells his mates I was a "waste."
So, all in all, a pretty bad date. The worst, even.
Since then, I haven't experienced anything quite as harrowing, but I also haven't been spending extended periods of potentially romantic time in the company of men.
Prob for the best, tbh.Explore more on these topics: