I’ve heard hilarious stories about a woman whose front tooth fell out mid-way through dinner and she didn’t notice, and about one woman who turned up with two friends and demanded drinks for the three of them.
I was dating quite a lot then (as were most of my friends) but he had really made me laugh over our messages so I had pretty high hopes that this was going to be a good date.
I’d never normally do this on a first date as it’s far harder to get out of a dinner than it is to make a hasty getaway from a pub or bar, but I definitely felt a spark so agreed.
There, beaming back at me in his tuxedo at a friend’s wedding was Tom*, the guy I’d been on a date with on Friday night.
On first impressions, he seemed great: He was handsome, fun, well-dressed and had his life together with a good job, his own flat and seemingly a life packed full of sport, hobbies and friends.
