Paris (Mis)match!

Having been somewhat distracted by Classified over the last few days, it's high time I told you about Paris (Mis)match and the hand, or paw, that Tangle had in our meeting.

In my wisdom, I posted a photo of myself and Tangle on my profile on Udate. Seemed appropriate at the time, especially as Udate was also known as Zoodate (and even Screwdate by some of its members)!

Anyway, this very brief liaison began when Paris (Mis)match sent an email to Tangle which greatly appealed to my sense of humour....some woofy banter went back and forth and I agreed to meet this fellow lawyer, who loved Border Terriers (apparently), for supper.

A pleasant Tuesday evening ensued and he enquired as to my intentions regarding continued Zoodate membership! I said this depended on whether I was swept off my feet along the way...

After a moments thought he said, 'How about a second date in Paris?'

Despite his slightly pasty chinless looks, I laughed and said yes, as such madness appealed to my sense of spontaneity.

So it was that 4 days later I found myself at Heathrow waiting anxiously for Paris (Mis)match, already 45 minutes later than our agreed meeting time. With seconds to spare before check-in closed he skidded into the airport in a flurry of Gucci loafers, bright red jeans and mumbled apologies about a hangover and late dinner party with 'chums' Hermione, Plum and Rupert the evening before.

He smelt like a bottle of Hendricks and, when he kissed me hello, tasted like a packet of Marlboro Lights, and looked so crumpled it was questionable whether he'd seen a toothbrush and change of clothes since the previous day but, undeterred, I decided it would be an adventure regardless...wouldn't it?

24 hours later, having done Paris (in separate rooms, I might add), and wanting to hit him several times as he had no conversation and his response to everything was 'Yah' in that affected drawl, beloved of the ruling classes, I knew he was never going to settle down with a comprehensive-educated girl who's friends were called things like Sara, Jane and Jim, as opposed to Octavia, Giles and Sim. More to the point hand-made shirts, Gucci loafers and all the grand gestures in the world were no compensation for lack of personality and lack of a chin.

We parted company and, whilst he promised to call, I hoped vehemently that he wouldn't.
That was the last time I allowed Tangle to have a paw in my love life.