Now I know most men like to play games but this just took the biscuit….

We matched on Tinder. He seemed funky in his pics, the fact now that I am saying funky should have been a warning sign. He was a musician: pics of him playing a guitar in his bedroom, on a stage, leather clad, cigarette smoke billowing from his mouth, you know the drill. He also had one of him and a cute little terrier with soulful puppy dog eyes so I swiped right.

He messaged me first ‘Your puppy looks cute, as do you’ he quipped, referring to the Tinder pic of me and my seven month old puppy. It was clear we were both in this for the dogs.

After some witty repartee over the course of a few nights, having taken our relationship to the next level, aka Whatsapp, he asked me out for a Tuesday night drink. He suggested a dog friendly established off the beaten track,  down by the river Liffey so that he could bring his best mate Bowie and I could bring Molly.  

He text me just before we were due to meet to ask if Molly had been neutered. 

‘Not yet’ I replied ‘She hasn’t come in to, um, ‘season’ yet’. 

‘Uh Oh’ neither is Bowie he informed me ‘This should be interesting’

Time was I only had to worry about me not getting pregnant on a first date, this was a whole new level of concern. Though frankly given my recent dry spell, our dogs had a much greater chance of getting laid on this date than I did. 

I pulled into the car park, and ladies, is it just me or does anyone else hate when a guy waits for you outside the venue instead of going in and commandeering a table? Fair enough is he was leaning on the bonnet of a Ferrari with a bunch of roses in his hands, that I would be ok with, but this guy was peering out of a beat up old Ford Fiesta from the late 90’s in a dark dimly lit car park. Not a good look. My friend said she would have ended the date there and then. But car’s aren’t dealbreakers, for me… now if he ordered a well done steak that would be it , date over.

On we went into the pub, eyeing each other up suspiciously and sniffing each other’s butts. Not us, the dogs. Us humans just had an awkward, did you find the place ok,  conversation.

Despite the ‘dog friendly’ destination the bar man seemed none too pleased about his new party of four and barked at us to keep our dogs under control and go into the snug. We complied dutifully and my new would be suitor, who looked nothing like his pictures by the way,  went to the bar to get us some non-alcoholic drinks as I busied myself with water bowls and pee mats. The glamour.

When he came back from the bar with the drinks he had a post it note pad and a pen in his hand. 

‘Oh, what’s that for?’ I asked.

‘I thought we could play some hangman’ he announced proudly plopping the pad on the table.

I laughed. He must be joking I thought until I opened my eyes and saw him drawing little dashes on the paper. 

‘Right pick a letter’ said this 41 year adult on a first date.

‘Oh no, em, I don’t want to play hangman,  thought maybe we could just, like,  chat and get to know each other’ I suggested like an animal?!?

‘Oh really? How about countdown? I love the number game’ he suggested hopefully.

‘No No, just, ye know, so what kind of music do you play?’ I asked through gritted teeth.

He got his wish though cause what ensued was an awful game of zero banter conversation tennis, jobs, travel, family, food, no topic was left uncovered until our dogs escaped the snug, mostly likely to avoid the cringe in the room, and the barman kicked us out. 

1 hour. 

My shortest date so far.