BreaKING THE RULES
Me and a mate were sat having a quiet Monday evening pint, when we recognised the familiar voice of the "The Legend" behind us.
We had seen him in our local before, where each weekend he would ritually perform a spine-grating rendition of a Wham! song (complete with pelvic gyrations resembling an epileptic weasel). He'd then wait to see if any women in the bar were brave enough to politely clap, and then invite himself to join them and loudly brag of his vocal prowess.
But now, in an entirely new bar, and that unmistakable nasal whine of the Legend ringing in our ears, we stopped talking, and spent the rest of the night listening to what was obviously a first date situation.
It was frightening - if there was ever a rule book on what NOT to do or say on a first date, this lame f*cker danced all over it!
Over the course of the next few hours we never heard a peep from her - she seemed quite a pleasant and tidy girl - but The Legend spat out some utter gems:
"And then at the start of this year, I began seeing Sharon, who never washed, but she loved to get sh*gged, f*cking loved it up her . . . . . Then I dumped her and started seeing this other chick but she just bled me dry and I got sick of the £20 taxis I paid to go to her house, plus, her baby was an annoying little shit and cried all the time. . . ."
At one point he left to go to the bar, returning a minute later to ask if she wanted a drink as well.
When he came back with his pint and then remembered hers again, he suddenly realised what a kipper he'd been, as he blurted out: Oh my god, I'm sorry, I just realised I've been talking for an hour about myself. Tell me about you." She only opened her mouth and he exploded again: "Oh, and there was this other one who was a complete psycho, and after a shag she threw herself on the bed and started smacking herself about, then blamed me . . . . . ."
Well, we left the bar at this point, only cause we were in fits of laughter and he was begining to suspect us.
A few days later in our local, we saw The Legend hanging round the phone in his finest BHS suit, looking anxious, staring at his watch, and making the occasional angry phonecall the last of which caused him to storm out the pub: "What do you mean you're not coming?!?!? . . . . . That's bollocks I thought we hit it off fine . . . . . F*ck you too!"
Guess she'd had enough on the first date.

That was two years ago, and The Legend hasn't been seen since
(Barry Subchimp, Tue 26 Oct 2004, 12:10, Reply)