Short and unsweet
My sister once went out with a rather tasty young man who said that he would fix me up with one of his mates. As I was single and a bit bored I thought 'what the hey - he's bound to have tons of equally good looking buddies.' Arranged a meeting outside a tube station (which I will never visit again in my life) and as with all blind dates stood there looking sideways at various fine men praying that he would be the one. After waiting for 5 minutes I turned round to see a short, fat, balding guy wearing what must have been a hand me down cardigan from his dad. And yep - you've guessed it - that was my 'date'. Felt a bit sorry for the guy so agreed to go and have a cup of tea with him round at his place (it was Sunday afternoon after all) and shortly after arriving at his house he decided it would be a good idea to lock the door, hide the keys and tell me that I was so nice he didn't think he could ever let me leave. An hour later and I am trying to suggest various activites to do OUTSIDE without trying to let him smell the fear on me and hack me to death with a kitchen knife. Two hours later I thought stuff the hacking to death, told him that he was the biggest twunt I had ever met and if he didn't let me out I would kick him to death. Needless to say I escaped alive and would rather turn into a mad cat woman and die sad and lonely than go on another blind date.
(Loving Vixen, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 13:44, Reply)