A conservative date...

I introduce to you Peter the Dull.

Poor chap. Perfectly nice but never going to light up the world. Another date from the dating website I am on. Is in politics as a campaign manager and wants to be an MP as soon as he can climb up the ranks apparently - heavens. Clearly slightly puffed up post recent victories for his party as well.

First impressions: he was a bit portly, but at least he was over 6 foot as his profile had stated. Neither good-looking nor repulsive to the eye.

Further impressions: somewhat lacking in banter, doesn't ski, doesn't do much sport anymore (if he ever did really – I suspect he just put sporty into his online description to cover all bases), and – fundamentally – he ordered me a small glass of wine rather than a large. Unimpressed.

During the date I officially experienced my first sinking feeling of there being a pause during which I was thinking, "oh… no… I actually have nothing left to ask him about… what can I ask him about…. Anything Twenty-Single! Think! Think! Why can't I think of anything else? Why doesn't he say something? Anything?! Come on, ask me something you lump of uselessness!" etc. Not good. And quite unusual as I can normally chatter away quite easily really. The small glass of wine may have played a factor in my lack of usual animation perhaps.

I also experienced flashes forward of my being coupled with someone who might end up in the public eye, and all the skeletons in old closets that could emerge and ruin him - nothing terribly sordid of course, but there are a voluminous amount of odd fancy dress photos, long-arming pints of beers photos, being nicknamed after famous dictators in sports teams drinking circles etc – it just doesn't make for a good other half to an MP. That was just an aside I had whilst sitting in silence for one of our overly long pauses in conversation.

After I bought myself another drink – yes, a large glass of wine (I suspect he thought he would get away with buying the small glass - he was found out when I came back to the table with decidedly larger glasses than he had) - I then proceeded to chatter away about nothing to rapidly draw the evening to a close after just two drinks.

On the plus side (for him) he is clearly going to be a very nice other half for someone one day. Someone who likes to listen to him drone on about party policies and who doesn't object to being covertly ordered small glasses of wine.

He actually asked me on a second date in a post-date text (clearly the odd silence didn’t bother him) so I was able to get some practice in at how to say 'no thank you' in a kindly fashion. It worked - he even replied to the rejection saying thank you! Poor Peter...