First dates - a how NOT to guide

Given that Bing and I had clicked so well before meeting I had every intention of ignoring any of the standard male behaviour that would normally have me chewing my inner cheek, allowing him to be human - complete with the accompanying failings - and even upgrading my one strike and you're out rule to three - three! - strikes.

And you know what?

I'm damn lucky he isn't so fucked up and judgemental fussy because circumstances conspired to make me look like the queen of all dippy bints.

Friday daytime we're doing the usual text contact and I'm messaging like I'm all cool and nonchalant whilst in actual fact the kids are wrecking the house with a million mates as I'm locked in the bathroom trying to remember how long it's safe to keep Veet on for. As it turned out the timing wasn't a problem but my being distracted during application was. I now sport a bush more reminiscent of Hitler's moustache than landing strip. I can only thank the age fairy that Bing was in the Falklands and not WW2 - post traumatic pussy is not the look I was going for!

Later that night my cab was late arriving and, when it eventually turned up, the driver quoted a most ridiculous fare before driving round the general vicinity till I turned green then admitting he didn't know where the hotel was. He then pulled over and looked at his A-Z. Upsideshittingdown!

You know that awkward moment when you meet someone for the first time having only seen photos and talked online? That 'although we appear to have become intimate through the medium of instant message I'm fully aware that I'm really quite incredibly fussy so I'm trying not to be shallow as well but if you're ugly or sound like Ashley Peacock from Corrie I do believe I shall cry' moment? Well. One of the nice things about flinging oneself full pelt out of a car and into a mans arms from the sheer relief of not being car-sick is that it takes all those nerves clean away! The nicest thing though is that I instantly got to feel just how good this man is at catching short blondes on high strings and even higher heels then simply bear hugging them back to equilibrium. Who knew rugby had such delightful transferable skills?

On to the pub and the first two beers I choose are off. Eventually winning at 'guess which pump is pullable' we settle over our pints and I start to relax, slipping my sandals off as my eyes flow appreciatively over him, the pupils dilating so much I can feel them all the way out to the lashes fluttering ten to the dozen until my eyes are on stalks and my bare feet are thrown in the air and I'm babbling something incoherent that he manages to interpret as 'ohmyfuckinggodtheresamousewithlegsandtailandeverything!'

Gallantly hiding his be/amusement he stands guard against the marauding vermin (albeit singular) that I insist is hiding behind a pillar as I speedwalk to the ladies to calm myself with breathing exercises before we find somewhere to eat. Once there I opt for cutlery over chopsticks but still manage to spill most of my meal down my cleavage. I like to think my tits are pretty damn special without fried rice but nonetheless, my shaky hands forced me into a really bad recreation of a scene from 9 ½ Weeks. If it hadn't been for the drunk couple on the other table, her with her arm in a sling having broken it in four places (I swear they were all on him), I'd've been crowned Miss Completely Sans Class 2007 in association with Elizabeth Duke and Primark and paraded as entertainment all the way to Trisha's studio.

To finish the evening I blistered my fresh pedicure walking the whole bloody length of the high road to find a cab home. Karate hardened feet may not blister but they're simply not pretty so I'd cracked open the Champneys and gone for it, not realising I'd later be hiking through the town centre for half an hour.

Saturday morning I get a text and it didn't say he was halfway back up the M1 so he obviously doesn't scare easy, a good thing since he's coming over to my place to cook and talking the language of spices. Bugger. The nearest I get to cuisine is a jar of mixed herbs. I manage not to act like a lemon as we shop for things like, er, lemons, fresh coriander and saffron then he cooks a gorgeous dinner whilst engaging with the kids and clearing as he goes! I do love when the military save me the job of training a man and I pretty much have to sit on him to stop him washing up before we go to the pub.

The pub was busy and loud with a fairly good rock band playing. I'm looking the epitome of glamour with my Mary Jane Gekko's over blister plasters and Bing, ever thoughtful, stands me on a step so I can see the band and he can kiss me without damaging his neck. Kissing leads to us driving back to the hotel where, well, let's just say he proved he doesn't just write damn good erotica...

A blissful eternity later I collapse desperate for a breather and feel the smile slide off my face when I hear "Ah. Babe, I think it's that time...". Oh joy, Aunt Flow has shown up without notice again, only this time she's not just passing, the bitch has brought her budgie and she's stopping for the week. I lay cringing as he goes to the bathroom then I go to the bathroom and cringe a bit more as I can't work the shower. Hearing me swearing he comes in and smiles at my embarrassment and frustration before manhandling the shower to a temperature less than scalding then gently putting me in it and washing me with a tenderness I've never known. The world melted into nothing but his huge, gentle hands, warm soapy water and soft words calming me. I almost - just almost - cried.

The next day I managed to fuck up again by driving to the wrong pub for the sunday lunch I'd promised him he'd adore. We found another one but not before being accosted by someone dressed as a polar bear from a family friendly carvery. Because, you know, a grown-up couple out together must be simply gagging to eat in a place full of kids wailing in fear of the clumsy great furry thing that's meant to keep them amused.

And then he had to leave. And I really didn't like that bit. And neither did he. At all.

So he's coming back and that must mean he's incredibly brave being that I know he's not stupid cos I heard him discussing science things with No 1 Son and No 1 Son was actually impressed.