The iDate

So, I went on a first date last night. With someone off of the internet.

Oooh....

Yes, I know. Internet dating. Well sort-of but not really. Not internet dating in the kind of "desperate so I'll put a profile on an internet dating website" sort of way, but in the "going on a date with someone you happen to have gotten chatting to online" kind of a way. I'm not desperate. Yet.

I'm not a huge fan of meeting people off of online for dates. There are often far too many unknowns, risks and just general nutters. Take their internet profile, for example.

Some put very little information on there, meaning you really have your work cut out asking questions to find out anything about them. Usually I don't even bother chatting to these people: if you're not going to give me an opener, why should I make the effort.

But then again, if they put too much information on the profile there is all the more to find fault with. They may like 99% of the same interests as me, but the fact that they once crochetted a teddybear makes them instantly a write-off. Or they just look too desperate. And that's if they are even telling the truth.

And that's even before looking at the photos. Some people don't put a face-shot on, preferring one of a holiday destination or their pet instead. Ugly people that is. Some people put on lovely photos. On the few occasions when I have actually met the people I got chatting to they have always failed to live up to expectations. One chap I met admitted the photos were "over a decade old". And yes, he had lied about his age too, and was surprised that I found him being of an entirely different generation an issue. He seemed to feel he was the wronged party because I was so 'prejudiced' that I wouldn't want to go out with someone fifteen years older than me. Had he put his proper age and photos on, then he wouldn't have wasted his time chatting to me and could, instead, have been chatting to someone my age who knew about his age and actually like that he was fifteen years older.

Oh, and then there are the very artistically shot photos. Black and white can hide a multitude of sins; the correct positionning of a pot-plant can hide an enormous nose; shadows can be used to disguise the prosthetic arm. I did once meet up with someone else who looked gorgeous in the photos; only to find he was actually twice the size - the only shot in which you could actually see his frame was apparently one of his twin brother. He certainly wasn't 'athletic' like it said on his profile. And he wonders why we never met up again.

And then, of course, there are the things that you can't tell from the profile. The mannerisms, irritations. The lisp.

One of the other reasons that I don't normally go on internet dates is that I enjoy going out and I figure - perhaps optimistically - that anyone suitable for me will also enjoy going out...to the same sort of places that I go out to.

Anyhow, despite all my reservations, I agreed to the date. And there were a few reservations - the photos online weren't great and people usually pick the best to go on the profile; he was a tech-geek; a couple of other bits and bobs. But, all in all, I did have a very enjoyable night. I did start out with a caveat though. This is essential when walking into the unknown. I already had my excuse: because of all the various extra things I had been doing during the evenings (including the work meal on Tuesday) I was very tired and could fall asleep any second.

However, the caveat was not needed and we were able to have a really pretty decent conversation, avoiding politics and religion, despite the pub being really noisy. I may be turning into an old man, but the music in the pub was at a ridiculous level to try and talk, which meant that all the other tables around were having to practically shout at each other just to be heard, making our conversation even more tricky. I don't know why people say you should never talk about politics or religion on a first date - on previous first dates I have and they have gone very well. But we chatted instead about work and the internet and various other bits and bobs.

I did, however, feel like a hostage at times. We were both at about the same level of our pint, with around 20% remaining, when he offered to get another one in. Lovely, I thought, and finished mine off. He then sat for TWENTY MINUTES sipping away at the dreggs of his pint before eventually getting up to get the next round in. And then he did exactly the same at the end of the night: despite keeping up with me for 80% of the pint; and despite me saying how late it was and how I had work in the morning; he still babysat the bloody thing for over a quarter of an hour before letting me go.

Still, there were a couple of bonuses: I found a couple of chocolates (goodness knows how old they were) and an umbrella condom in my coat pocket; and I found out that the students are back!