Dispelling the myth of dating Pyk

OK this is the one Jodie was waiting for. I was receiving texts night and morning from a guy who was pleasant 'nuf but to whom I wasn't at all attracted as anything more than a potential friend. I could feel he was getting more serious and so I agreed to meet him...out of kindness... and we chose a midway point, at a pub. He wasn't at all attractive - don't yell at me - I'm allowed to have likes and dislikes in what I want to be seen out with and while we're on that subject, WHY don't some people just DO something with themselves before they put a photograph online? Y'know, comb their hair? Have a smile on their face? Sit upright? Not have the ex's arm in view around their neck and the rest of them cut off the picture?? Digressed, sorry. Soooo, I arrived at the pub and the guy, hmm, Mr Potter, we'll say, was standing at the bar. My first impression - he was a Mr Spock clone! He had a pointy blue ear! He was worse than his photograph and he had a poopy stain down his shirt! Turns out the ear was his mobile phone blue tooth or somesuch. The stain he apologised for, saying that he was just getting into the car and a bird pooped on him! Maybe this was an omen? Normally, when you step in poop, you say it brings good luck. Well, I suppose that's the optimist's way of looking at it, cos the day really can't get much worse if you've got a stinky shoe, can it? OK, I would have run back in and changed. He didn't So he bought me a drink (diet Coke) and we retired to a table to chat and order lunch. I was in an egg, ham and chips mood and so was he and two plates were ordered. Now, this is where I learned another dating lesson! We were sitting on a bench seat, side by side, talking. Y'know me, apart from with archaeologists I can talk for England about lotsa things (as long as were talking inanities!) so I was relaxed and my usual self. Then.... he put his hand on my thigh as I sant alongside him. (Lesson, don't sit alongside new date) Now, I suppose someone a bit more direct than I would have told him to remove the hand forthwith. But polite likkle Pyk, just moved her leg, twisting around, to avoid the contact. I was sitting holding my drink with one hand and the other resting on the table (also now twisted around). Next he grabbed hold of my free hand so I put down my drink, chatted a minute then picked up the drink with my grabbed hand! Put the drink down and clasped them together. Now sitting skewed with hands clasped I figured I was fine! THEN, he grabbed a hold of my head, pulling it toward his and whispered in my ear: "I can keep you occupied at least three times a day." Whoaaaaaa, head flew back so fast it almost ricocheted off the wall. Fortunately lunch arrived ... phew. I selected one ketchup sachet, tore off the corner and squeezed the contents into a small puddle on the side of the plate. HE followed suit, with 4 ketchups, 3 brown sauces and a mayonnaise dribbled all over the place. His meal looked like a Jackson Pollock piece of work!!!! Then he started eating it with his fingers. Ahem. Meal over and hoping to find a silver lining in the cloud, I suggested we just have a look around the town, which I hadn't visited before. Firstly we were to check on his dogs which were in his car, parked under a tree, it was a warm day. As we walked outside he grabbed hold of my hand again, which I promptly removed and used it to keep my bag on my shoulder. The pooches were something of a rare breed and when he opened the boot lid I had to stop myself from laughing cos he looked like his dogs ... they had the same sort of moustachey/beard! He gave them water which they lapped up eagerly and then stood looking at him with drippy wet whiskers! Dogs watered we ventured on a walk. He had a passion for reading the postcard advertisements in shops and at the first newsagents he became engrossed in the likes of 'dining room table and 4 chairs £40' and suchalike, while I nipped into the newsagents. I had a plan. It was a warm day so I bought a bottle of water and was now satisfied that I had one hand to grip my bag and with the bottle my other hand was now occupied so there'd be no handy holding! I bought a packet of Aspirin for good measure! As he entered the shop I popped a couple of pills and had a swig of water and rubbed my hand across my forehead and frowned a little. Headache? Just a bit. It was a small town and as we reached the end of the main street there was a shop selling home-made ices and I bought us each one. I ate mine as it came, he had 'hundreds and thousands' and squirty stuff on his - naturally. I ate mine delicately and when he ate, his tache was covered in dripping ice cream and he looked just like his dogs! We got back to the pub and I said my head was really thumping now and thanked him for lunch. He asked if we could meet again and I took out my diary and said I was very busy. Then, he lurched forward to kiss me, drippy ice creamy tache wibbling and I lurched backwards, jumped in my car, wound down the window and bid him goodbye and burned rubber! Never heard from him again! Another lesson, say your phone is on vibrate, take it out of your pocket and pretend to read an urgent message calling you away!!!! I wish I'd been told that one sooner!