The worst date EVER, in the history of dating

Recently some friends mentioned my worst dating experience ever (or the ‘worst date in history’ as I like to call it) on their radio show on a certain, very popular radio station. I do not deny, not even for one second, how hilarious this course of events will sound. I laugh looking back on it almost every day. Here's the 411:
I’d met him,very briefly, through my younger (guy) cousin, while we were jolling it up at Clapham Gold just before Christmas. Let’s call him FGPC. I’ll explain the acronym later.

That particular evening on the town was an abortion. I was out with colleagues and we were all in the festive spirit. I must have had 11 shots of tequila on my own, over and above the 2 Red Bull/Vodkas & the other stuff I’d thrown down the hatch. I didn’t remember much of him, just that he’d very-kindly helped me find my cousin so that said cousin could take me home.

The next day, while I suffered through what is quite possibly the worst hangover I’ve ever had, my little cousin messaged me to ask if he could give FGPC my number. Sure, I said, trying to be nice. My cousin tried to sell him to me by telling me that he plays for a provincial cricket side, professionally. Truth is I couldn’t remember his name, let alone what he looked like and could care less what he did for a living. He was forgettable - to say the least.

What followed was random banter between the two of us. Harmless I thought. Then he’d asked if I’d like to go to a movie. Little cuz urged me to go and told me to 'go with the flow' because I had nothing to lose. So I went to the movie. Good gosh how I wish I hadn't.

It wasn’t completely terrible but then how well do you get to get to know someone during a movie? We parted with a kiss – it honestly felt like a Baracuda was attempting to decapitate me by sucking my face off. He also grabbed my tuchas so hard in both hands it felt as though he was going to rip it from my body. Over-eager much?

The next day he arrived at gym (my gym) with my cousin. I nearly plutzed. I’d never in my life seen this guy at gym and I spend enough time in the place to practically know everyone. Was this oke being serious & was just really into me? He attempted to train with me until I said: “I don’t mean to be rude but I don’t need someone stalking me around the gym. I actually really prefer training on my own.”

He got the (not-so-subtle) hint and did his own thing. He continued to pitch up at gym for the next few days. He also asked me out to dinner. I obliged. Part of me wanted to like him, part of me was just excited to have something to do while the whole of Jozi was jolling at the coast.
The Dinner:
‘F’ in FGPC stands for…Farter


We arrived at the restaurant, a favourite of mine, after we’d gymmed and freshened up. Five minutes after we sat down he slid back into his chair…and farted.

I have NEVER in my life. And even though it was accidental I couldn’t help but think ‘Seriously? Am I on Candid Camera?’ He apologised profusely. I honestly had no idea what to do, or say.

‘G’ in FGPC stands for…Growler

A few minutes after the fart incident he got up to go to the loo. He walked up, kissed me on the cheek and then growled (like a tiger) in my ear. WHO DOES THAT?!

I looked up at him and said: “Dude, you have got be kidding me? Did you really just growl in my ear? What the hell?!”. He nodded and walked off to the loo.

‘P’ in FGPC stands for...Pooh-er

Dinner coninued. I felt it would at least be polite to finish the meal and then go our seperate ways. The entire conversation was about how ‘kiff’ living in PE is and how ‘I bowl at 160kmh’. I cricket scored in high school. I know the game well, better than most. If you bowl at 160kmh chances, are out of 18 balls, you’ll only bowl at that pace for one ball and it will most likely be a ‘no-ball’.

Shortly after dessert, he again got up from the table, rubbed his stomach and proclaimed: “Excuse me. I have to go do a Number 2.”

I was completely awestruck. Did he really just announce that he was going to take dump?

After he’d been gone for 20 minutes (yes – I was dumb enough to wait around), I sent him a text saying I’d paid for my half of my bill and got up to leave. He sprinted out of the bathroom and said: “So am I following you to your place for coffee?”. I pushed my chair in and very softly said goodbye.

Before I’d even gotten home I’d received a text from him telling me what an amazing evening he’d had. Of course he did. He ate a good meal, spoke about himself, and took a shit all within a three hour period.

‘C’ in FGPC stands for…Clinger (Stage 5)

I had another message before I went to sleep.
And another when I woke up the following morning.
And another by lunchtime that afternoon.
You get where this is going.

I deleted his number.
And continued to get random sappy messages, from what I gather was him, for the next 3 weeks.

I saw him while I was out last week. I turned to the friend I was with and screamed “Run for the hills!”

Good riddens.

So now y'all know.