Welcome To The Worst Date Awards Ceremony! In Bronze Place…

I’ve often been told by friends that I resemble a cross between Bridget Jones and Samantha Jones, take from that what you will.

Now, due to popular demand from the people lucky enough to have witnessed my dating life throughout the years, I felt it was only right to share an insight into some of the stonkers I’ve had the pleasure of spending an evening with.

Just to give you some background into my life, I’ve been single on and off ever since my childhood sweetheart at 18. Since then, I’ve had one serious relationship, a few 3–4 month fizzlers and multiple unsuccessful first attempts. I’ve dumped, been dumped, blocked, been blocked, you name it, I’ve done it.

Choosing my top date offenders was like choosing between your children, however, in my case, I wish that said children had never been born. After much deliberation, I dwindled them down to my top three.

Silver and gold will be coming to you later down the line (let’s not have all the fun in one go!) so for now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the bronze position for my Worst Date Award.

*Disclaimer — all names have been changed for the personal protection of these poor souls. Bronze Award — Dry Jan Dan with whom I crazy golfed

I’m not a massive advocate of forced fun. Especially on a first date. Especially when there is no booze involved. Especially when your date arrives first and buys his own can of Coke Zero and crazy golf ticket whilst waiting for me. Rule 101: if I arrive first, I will get the round in (and activity ticket should it be forced upon me), however if you arrive first, you do. This is called basic manners, and sadly poor Dan evidently didn’t learn these at his boarding school.

This was the first time I had decided to complete Dry January and my date was completing it too. Sadly, his inability to part with £10 for a coke and a Putting Pass caused me to judge him instantly, especially as he sat across from me in a Crewe gilet, Ralph Lauren shirt and told me he lived in Parsons Green.

We made our way up to the start line and the ticket man gave my soda pop and I a sympathetic smile, as if to say “you’re going to need something stronger in that”. He asked Dan for our names so that he could input them into the system and it was at that moment my date suffered momentary memory loss, as he introduced me as Rachel. In the famous words of Rachel Stevens’ first solo 2005 hit, I politely reminded him that ‘Je M’Appelle’ Rebecca.

It was a rocky start with no sign of improvement. We exchanged awkward small talk around the course, with the conversation being halted as we dodged through windmills and AstroTurf mounds. Dan was incredibly competitive and insisted on keeping score. He made a comment about the quality of the putter and didn’t appreciate that the course was set up for ‘stroke play’ and not ‘match play’. Now, I do dabble in golf myself, however I’m the first to admit that The PuttShack in Shepherds Bush probably wouldn’t cater for quite the same rules and regulations as The Masters.

After enduring 45 minutes of playing and queuing behind other miserable-looking first daters, it was clear we had nothing in common, but both reluctantly sat back down at the bar out of politeness, ready to cover more surface level topics.

We had both glugged down our sugary spritzers in the first 20 minutes of the course in an escape to fill the awkward silences, but it was clear old frugal Dan wasn’t willing to part ways with his cash once again. I offered to get us another round (which of course he accepted) purely to escape him telling me anymore about his weekly book club.

Finally, after both sipping round two as quickly as possible, we put our coats on and said our goodbyes. Dan decided at this point it was socially acceptable to give me a double thumbs up goodbye as opposed to a double kiss goodbye. On reflection, as tragic as that was, at least it was marginally better than a double thumbs down!

As I was left on the train platform, sober and sombre, I vowed to myself never to do Dry January again.

Originally published at http://lookingbothways.co.uk on February 12, 2021.