I've told this story many, many times.

It's the one that I drag out at gaffs when everybody is having a great time just so I can bring the mood down ever so slightly. It's funny but tragic. It's unbelievable and yet totally plausible. It's the worst date I've ever been on and will ever go on because I'm done with romantic scenarios from now until the end of time. The date in question was a blind date. It was set up by a friend of mine who will not be named and who did not actually know the person they decided to so graciously set me up with, which was handy. People may ask why I stayed so long. Others might wonder why I didn't just leave, get a bag of chips and a battered sausage, and call it a night. I do not have the answers to these questions. 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.