Impulse

You would think I'd have learnt my lesson about blind dates after my first ever experience. It happened almost 10 years ago.

I need to go back a couple of years to the start of the story. I was rushing to work one summer's morning when I was stopped in the car park by a gentleman looking for the train station. I remember thinking how attractive he was as I pointed him in the right direction. I wouldn't have given him a second thought but as I returned to my car later in the day, I found a note stuck beneath my wipers.

" Hi. My name's Mark. Thank you for the directions. If you fancy a drink, please call me on..."

I was delighted, not least because I was able to wave it beneath the nose of my then unsatisfactorily inattentive boyfriend, who probably couldn't have given a toss as long as he didn't have to take me out. I never responded to the approach and forget about it over time.

A couple of years later, by now single, I came across the note discarded at the back of a drawer. I imagine most 'normal' people would have smiled to themselves as they threw it into the rubbish if, in fact, such 'normal' people had bothered to keep it in the first place. I, of course, inately opportunistic and possibly borderline wacko, immediately rang the number.

I was surprised when it turned out to be a furniture shop. I assumed Mark must be an employee. I asked to speak to him but was told that he did not work there, although the lady did know him and would be seeing him that evening. She would pass my number on to him. Never once did she question why I should be ringing her business to speak to him, nor did I think it odd that she immediately identified him from his first name and a brief explanation as to how I came to have her number.

The following morning a call came through. It was Mark. He didn't beat about the bush. He wanted to meet me. It was to be daylight so I could see what an upfront guy he was and it had to be that weekend, Saturday 15 February. I couldn't think of a good enough reason to protest, so I didn't.

As the weekend drew nearer my doubts increased in direct correllation with the intensity of his telephone calls. I knew the location, layout, age and historical value of his house; a summary of his complete relationship experience to date; his dogs' names and medical complaints; his employment status and career prospects with full financial analysis; his favourite colour/ music/ side of the bed. I was also starting to suspect he was a bit of a w*nker.

I'm a firm believer that one must finish what one has started so I determined to see it through to the bitter end. I now realise that it's sometimes better to quit before things get any worse which is a perfect point at which to close this post for today.