Canoe Boy

Oh lord…

Poor chap.

I had misgivings before we even met up if I am honest. Firstly he had suggested meeting up, on a Friday evening, in a trendy bar in the middle of Piccadilly. Even the thought of the heaving bustle of Central London and all its tourists on a hot evening was not appealing. Secondly, in the emails we had exchanged beforehand (yes, another dating website date) he had gone on about canoes quite a bit. I was glad to hear that he had some keen sporting interest, but the lengthy explanations I had received detailing the differences between Canadian Canoes, just plain old Canoes and Kayaks had set a few alarm bells gently ringing…

So, Canoe Boy. First impressions:

- He had unfortunate teeth that not only looked like the front two of them were shorn off halfway through growing, but also had the unusual effect of making certain words he said come out with a whistling sound.
- He was also rather balding – something which I had not been able to pick up on from the photos he had displayed of himself as (I noticed on reviewing them when home later on) he was wearing different hats in all of them – cheeky.
- He was clearly suffering from feeling the heat as there were beads of sweat glistening on his head, and on more than one occasion, they rolled down off his shiny head towards his eyes… Which he seemed oblivious too, and I politely tried not to stare at them and wonder if the salt was going to affect his eyes at some point.

So, like I said, poor chap.

Canoe Boy is 34 years old, has brown hair (what remains of it), works in marketing, lives near Wimbledon, his home town is Shropshire, his actual name is John (and his surname is Smith with a middle name of Andrew - parents lacking some imagination there I feel) and he is 5 foot 10. (NOTE TO SELF: I have now (again) absolutely decided against any further dates with men shorter than 5 foot 11, minimum. I really don't like feeling the same height as the chap next to me if I am in heels)

I can’t quite put my finger on his accent/tone, but it really reminded me of something or someone (other than a choo choo train whistling before going into tunnels)… I think whatever the tone was, it had a definite effeminacy to it. Suffice to say, it was unusual and not overly attractive as far as voices go.

And I really don’t know why he went for somewhere bang in the middle of busy Piccadilly. Apparently it isn't near either his home or work, and he was aware that it wasn't near my home or work either. He did very kindly foot the bill for the drinks though, despite my offering to split it as I knew I wouldn’t see him again – so can't fault him a jot on dating etiquette in that sense.

I lasted for 2 G&Ts and then just as I was reaching my tether with Canoe Boy's explanations of different materials used to build canoes with over the years, I used my atrocious cough as an excuse to leave whilst it was still light and gloriously sunny outside (which was a shock I must say on emerging from the dark cubby hole we had been sitting in).

There will not be a second date.