Sitting down in the very fancy and newly opened restaurant, I was looking forward to a good night. I had tried to turn a blind eye to him wearing a vest on our second date; and, despite only drinking the same amount as me, he had seemed somewhat intoxicated on all our dates , staggering about.
But I had soldiered on, hoping things might improve. I mostly enjoyed his company and he was a talented artist, which appealed to my love of creativity. Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro.
We can't wait for you to join us! I was there for work purposes and felt utterly embarrassed by his freeloading. Inwardly, I was seething at his pure cheek but after a while I mentally talked myself down and tried to relax.
He ordered another bottle of wine and offered to pay for it, saying it was the least he could do, which seemed reasonable. I am a very compassionate woman, but I was cringing when he started crying at the table.
A conversation about his cat β taken by his ex-wife following their divorce β prompted tears as I tucked into my reasonably priced pasta and he ate his expensive Wagyu beef. Mortified, I gently explained that people around us would think he was crying because we were having a public blow-out and asked him to pull himself together β but still the tears flowed.
