It is true to say that at times I have projected my own ideal onto the men I have dated, trying to convince myself that they are the right man for me. This seems to be born out of the hope that the search for ‘the one’ is over and that the dating fiasco can finally be replaced by cosy nights in and holding hands.

There is one guy that I dated back when I was in the last year of my degree who will stick in the minds of all of my friends, and not for good reasons. Two days ago, I ran into him.

‘Dave’ was the local bad boy. He was always in and out of trouble and had less than salubrious friends, but as with ‘Mary’, there was just ‘something’ about him.

I think that at some point in every woman’s life, a bad boy is just what they want and most of the time they don’t actually think that they are that bad. Just a few rough edges to smooth out and they will be perfect, right? I definitely thought that I was going to be the one to smooth Dave’s edges out.

In all honesty, I was fascinated by him. He was forbidden fruit. My mum had taught supply at the local school and had the misfortune to cover his class. For years I wondered who this boy was; the kid that managed to utterly enrage a calm and usually unflappable woman, so much so that she forbid me from ever talking to him.

As with many requests that parents make of their children, they tend to fall on deaf ears. In fact these ‘wishes’ often have the opposite effect on a child’s behaviour. This was most definitely the way that I worked and to a certain extent, I still do. Combining my ability to not do as I was ‘jolly well told’ and Dave’s bad boy allure, there was no way that I could resist.

It started with innocent flirting and next we were having a drink with my friends. Kate and Toby sat and listened whilst I laughed along to his jokes. Eventually Dave went home and my friends saw the opportunity to ask me what on earth I was doing and why I had just put them through 2 hours of his gratuitous swearing and burping. I explained that he wasn’t that bad and that he was ‘so different’ when it was just the two of us.

The following weekend Dave decided that he would come and see me at university and so late one Friday he arrived. Within 10 minutes I realised what I had done. He stepped out of a beaten up Volvo (which before you ask – wasn’t the problem) and proceeded to ask me about the police circulation in the area as he had no tax. I then realised that he was wearing torn and dirty, Kappa trousers and a football shirt – a combination that to this day I find only suitable for the gym, painting and/or Scousers (sorry Jodie) – and had shaved his head. To be honest the looks of horror and almost fear (yes, fear) from my house mates said it all.

We went to a really nice bar in town to meet friends, and I was met by more disapproving faces and shaking heads. It was at this point that Dave really got going and ordered a plethora of Vodkas and Redbulls. Fired up by the concoction, Dave crushed the can of empty Redbull against the wall and threw the bent can across the bar, which then hit a friend on the back of the head (of course).

If these misdemeanours weren’t enough, on our way to the taxi rank, Dave decided that it was time to take off his top.

Dave was a good looking guy, with a toned body and beautiful eyes, but I was not prepared to see the tattoo that his T-shirt had hidden so well.

As I tried to avoid any sort of conversation with him, I glanced at his torso (slightly embarrassed that I was walking through town with a half naked man) and there it was. A tattooed version of the Calvin Klein, boxer short, waist band...wrapping its way around his hips.

Some of you will probably be wondering what the fuss is all about and some of you will know exactly what I am saying, but to clarify, he had a Calvin Klein, boxer short, waist band tattooed around his middle!



On occasions like these, the words ‘I told you so’ are not helpful, but certainly prove a point. Since this dating disaster, I would like to say that I have thought twice about ignoring the sage advice of others, but this would be a lie.