In short (though it felt very, very long…), I’ve just spent about two hours of my life with a man wearing a dozen red flags.Īnd this date isn’t unusual. It’s a tale as old as time: he talked about himself relentlessly despite being incredibly dull, he said cruel things about his ex, he interrupted me whenever I tried to speak, and he flirted with the waitress right in front of me. It’s 10.30pm on a cold and rainy Friday night and I’ve just been on a bad date.
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