First Dates.

If anyone knows the format, a couple who have been carefully  matched meet up in a London restaurant to have a first date. Its interesting to see who has chemistry and who doesn't.
A new series starts tonight on CH 4 9pm.


http://www.channel4.com/programmes/first-dates


Everyone everywhere has had a first date at sometime in their lives that has either been brilliant or disastrous, do you have any you remember with joy....or dread?

I had a blind date once (and only once) a friend said someone who had seen me in work would like to go out, I had an idea who it was, and he was very good looking.
I was 16, the place I worked was vast with a huge canteen, and I had seen this boy looking over, so I agreed to meet up.
Only when I arrived at the meeting point, a lad I had never seen and who was definitely not my type was stood there, held out his hand, introduced himself....and that was that, I was on a date.

He took me to see a Peter Sellers film  'A shot in the dark'  which was a comedy, but unfortunately he had a really loud off putting laugh....and I couldn't wait for the film to be over and the date to end.
He walked me to the bus stop, lunged in for a kiss, I turned, he slobbered in my ear, bus came, I went home..... that was my first and last blind date ever.

No one wants to share.....back to the 10 threads about Corbyn and his hatred for Jews then.
At least it gives Trump a rest.

Syl wrote:No one wants to share.....back to the 10 threads about Corbyn and his hatred for Jews then. Rolling Eyes
At least it gives Trump a rest.

I was watching, Syl.  It's a good thread.

I was a really slow dater.  I mean, I was really good in Mrs. Schwimler's dance class, but it didn't motivate me to ask girls out.

One girl--De-De Destin--lived in the same neighborhood, but went to another school, asked me out.  It was a disaster.  I didn't know what to say, so I ignored her all evening.

I was too young to drive, so we were chaperoned by my sister and her boyfriend.  Finally, my sister nudged me to say I should pay attention to her.  When I dropped her off at her house, she had to ask me to kiss her goodnight.

Needless to say, we didn't date again.

Original Quill wrote:

Syl wrote:No one wants to share.....back to the 10 threads about Corbyn and his hatred for Jews then. Rolling Eyes
At least it gives Trump a rest.

I was watching, Syl.  It's a good thread.

I was a really slow dater.  I mean, I was really good in Mrs. Schwimler's dance class, but it didn't motivate me to ask girls out.

One girl--De-De Destin--lived in the same neighborhood, but went to another school, asked me out.  It was a disaster.  I didn't know what to say, so I ignored her all evening.

I was too young to drive, so we were chaperoned by my sister and her boyfriend.  Finally, my sister nudged me to say I should pay attention to her.  When I dropped her off at her house, she had to ask me to kiss her goodnight.

Needless to say, we didn't date again.

I just thought a more light hearted thread would be a change from politics and grief.

Aww Quill, thanks for sharing that, it's a really nice story.
We forget how gauche we once was, specially in the company of the opposite sex.

I was really bad, probably because I was brought up in a female household and didn't really have any male family members locally.

I had a date once with a boy who hardly spoke to me all night....I was gutted because I had liked him for ages....we went to see "The sound of music" and apart from asking me if I would like an ice cream in the interval, I think the only other thing he said was "Julie Andrews has got really nice teeth".

LOL, years ago a friend of mine told me she had met a nice guy. One day we were over the park and she spotted him in the distance with a friend. At the time I looked a total mess and didn;t want to meet them so we dashed off.

A couple of days later she told me that this guy had seen us over the park had asked her to go out with him and his mate and to bring a nice friend. He also specifically told her, ''a nice friend, mind, not that old dog that you were over the park with''. She decided to take me along anyway but I was dressed much nicer and with my hair nice and everything.

Apparantly her fella told her ''wow! my mates really into your friend, glad you didn't bring that other state you were with before''

we both cracked up laughing but i dont think either of them ever knew that i was that initial old dog that they didn't want her to bring

gelico wrote:

LOL, years ago a friend of mine told me she had met a nice guy.  One day we were over the park and she spotted him in the distance with a friend.  At the time I looked a total mess and didn;t want to meet them so we dashed off.

A couple of days later she told me that this guy had seen us over the park had asked her to go out with him and his mate and to bring a nice friend.  He also specifically told her, ''a nice friend, mind, not that old dog that you were over the park with''.  She decided to take me along anyway but I was dressed much nicer and with my hair nice and everything.

Apparantly her fella told her ''wow! my mates really into your friend, glad you didn't bring that other state you were with before''

we both cracked up laughing but i dont think either of them ever knew that i was that initial old dog that they didn't want her to bring

Great story. With a good ending, unlike mine.

Syl wrote:No one wants to share.....back to the 10 threads about Corbyn and his hatred for Jews then.
At least it gives Trump a rest.

ANYTHING to get away from Corbyn (who, by the way, once apparently took Diane Abbott on his motorcycle tour of some Cold War era Eastern European Commie gulag or another....the mind doth truly boggle!!!).

Which leads me on to the recollection that a motorcycle featured in my own first date (if one does not count the  behind-the-bike-shed assignation on which I discovered at a very tender age and by courtesy of the school vamp with the exotic name of Anne Chettleburg, that liberty bodices and navy blue knickers with finger-trapping elastic bands could conceal hitherto undiscovered  delights for a young feller!) when, as a very young cub reporter I arranged a blind date with a copytaker by the name of Gloria.

Now for those uninitiated in the mysteries and rituals of 1950s newspaper practices, a journalist was expected to discover the world's most explosive scoop and then - using a British red telephone box inevitably displaying the unmistakable aroma of urine - insert a pocketful of English penny pieces into a slot on the box marked "A" and then press a button marked "B" when a female voice answered. Yelling "copytaker" in an authoritative voice would result in a connection to a young lady whose job it was was speedily to convert the reporter's dictated message into typewritten copy that was thence taken by a messenger to the newsdesk.

"Hold the front page" stuff, and all that.......

One day, having connected telephonically to Gloria who had a very, very, seductive voice (well, for Yorkshire, that is) and having dictated my scoop about the local vicar buggering off with the organist's wife or something like that, I asked Gloria out for a date and we arranged to meet outside Doncaster railway station at a mutually agreed time.

I was to look out for a redhead (cor!!!!!!!!) and she was to look out for a BSA 250cc motorbike piloted by a bloke in a white crash helmet.

Well, I turned up on the aforesaid motorbike - and, standing at the station entrance, so did she of the red hair....

But the glorious Gloria must have tipped the scales at about 15 stone. She appeared to have thighs like tree trunks and a bosom that would in close contact have suffocated the lungs of a South Pacific pearl fisher. She had a passing resemblance to the former TV wrestling star Big Daddy (who, incidentally, was much prettier) and she was standing beside an old crone who, I could only assume, was her chaperone...and grandma!

And I'll swear she had a bigger moustache than mine.......

Conclusion? Twist throttle to maximum revs, slam in gears....and fuck off at around mach one out of Doncaster!

Awww...Fred.  Dammit, she has a great personality!  You shouldn't have given up on such a flimsy excuse.

How many times has she had to face such disappointment? Well, it's no worse that my date with Dede.

gelico wrote:

LOL, years ago a friend of mine told me she had met a nice guy.  One day we were over the park and she spotted him in the distance with a friend.  At the time I looked a total mess and didn;t want to meet them so we dashed off.

A couple of days later she told me that this guy had seen us over the park had asked her to go out with him and his mate and to bring a nice friend.  He also specifically told her, ''a nice friend, mind, not that old dog that you were over the park with''.  She decided to take me along anyway but I was dressed much nicer and with my hair nice and everything.

Apparantly her fella told her ''wow! my mates really into your friend, glad you didn't bring that other state you were with before''

we both cracked up laughing but i dont think either of them ever knew that i was that initial old dog that they didn't want her to bring

What a cheeky get, remarks like that hurt when you are young.

I remember sitting waiting for a friend at a dancehall. A lad circled round me a couple of times, obviously weighing up whether he wanted to ask me for a dance or not. When he had had a good look and decided I was worthy, he asked me, obviously I refused, and as he walked away he said "you look like a lesbian anyway".

I always think insults have a far more profound effect than compliments do.

Fred Moletrousers wrote:

Syl wrote:No one wants to share.....back to the 10 threads about Corbyn and his hatred for Jews then.
At least it gives Trump a rest.

ANYTHING to get away from Corbyn (who, by the way, once apparently took Diane Abbott on his motorcycle tour of some Cold War era Eastern European Commie gulag or another....the mind doth truly boggle!!!).

Which leads me on to the recollection that a motorcycle featured in my own first date (if one does not count the  behind-the-bike-shed assignation on which I discovered at a very tender age and by courtesy of the school vamp with the exotic name of Anne Chettleburg, that liberty bodices and navy blue knickers with finger-trapping elastic bands could conceal hitherto undiscovered  delights for a young feller!) when, as a very young cub reporter I arranged a blind date with a copytaker by the name of Gloria.

Now for those uninitiated in the mysteries and rituals of 1950s newspaper practices, a journalist was expected to discover the world's most explosive scoop and then - using a British red telephone box inevitably displaying the unmistakable aroma of urine - insert a pocketful of English penny pieces into a slot on the box marked "A" and then press a button marked "B" when a female voice answered. Yelling "copytaker" in an authoritative voice would result in a connection to a young lady whose job it was was speedily to convert the reporter's dictated message into typewritten copy that was thence taken by a messenger to the newsdesk.

"Hold the front page" stuff, and all that.......

One day, having connected telephonically to Gloria who had a very, very, seductive voice (well, for Yorkshire, that is) and having dictated my scoop about the local vicar buggering off with the organist's wife or something like that, I asked Gloria out for a date and we arranged to meet outside Doncaster railway station at a mutually agreed time.

I was to look out for a redhead (cor!!!!!!!!) and she was to look out for a BSA 250cc motorbike piloted by a bloke in a white crash helmet.

Well, I turned up on the aforesaid motorbike - and, standing at the station entrance, so did she of the red hair....

But the glorious Gloria must have tipped the scales at about 15 stone. She appeared to have thighs like tree trunks and a bosom that would in close contact have suffocated the lungs of a South Pacific pearl fisher. She had a passing resemblance to the former TV wrestling star Big Daddy (who, incidentally, was much prettier) and she was standing beside an old crone who, I could only assume, was her chaperone...and grandma!

And I'll swear she had a bigger moustache than mine.......

Conclusion? Twist throttle to maximum revs, slam in gears....and fuck off at around mach one out of Doncaster!

You paint a very vivid picture Fred, I was there with you then.

Voices can be very deceiving. When I was young I worked as a GPO telephonist. We all had a set pattern of what to say and when, very business like.
One of the women who worked alongside me was a dead ringer for Olive (from the TV programme On the buses) but she had a voice like the woman who introduced the TV programme 'Burkes law'...very low, slow and seductive.
She was chatted up all the time, and sometimes I think she did arrange dates with callers.

I imagine their reaction when they saw her was similar to yours was when you saw your Gloria.

Syl wrote:

gelico wrote:

LOL, years ago a friend of mine told me she had met a nice guy.  One day we were over the park and she spotted him in the distance with a friend.  At the time I looked a total mess and didn;t want to meet them so we dashed off.

A couple of days later she told me that this guy had seen us over the park had asked her to go out with him and his mate and to bring a nice friend.  He also specifically told her, ''a nice friend, mind, not that old dog that you were over the park with''.  She decided to take me along anyway but I was dressed much nicer and with my hair nice and everything.

Apparantly her fella told her ''wow! my mates really into your friend, glad you didn't bring that other state you were with before''

we both cracked up laughing but i dont think either of them ever knew that i was that initial old dog that they didn't want her to bring

What a cheeky get, remarks like that hurt when you are young.

I remember sitting waiting for a friend at a dancehall. A lad circled round me a couple of times, obviously weighing up whether he wanted to ask me for a dance or not. When he had had a good look and decided I was worthy, he asked me, obviously I refused, and as he walked away he said "you look like a lesbian anyway".

I always think insults have a far more profound effect than compliments do.

Blimey Syl, we must have gone to the same dancehall.

Its not a first date, although there plenty of disatrous ones, wouldn't know where to start. When we started going to discos there was this one boy I really fancied, week after week we dance near him and his mate dancing with the girls of their choice so that maybe the next dance would be mine , it seemed it was not to be then one evening when the girls were thin on the ground, he asked me to dance and a smooch as well, trouble was I found after being swept into his arms, well sort of, I didn't fancy him anymore, he wasn't interested either and as the dance ended off we went in different directions.

Vintage wrote:

Syl wrote:

What a cheeky get, remarks like that hurt when you are young.

I remember sitting waiting for a friend at a dancehall. A lad circled round me a couple of times, obviously weighing up whether he wanted to ask me for a dance or not. When he had had a good look and decided I was worthy, he asked me, obviously I refused, and as he walked away he said "you look like a lesbian anyway".

I always think insults have a far more profound effect than compliments do.

Blimey Syl, we must have gone to the same dancehall.

Could even have been the same bloke..

Vintage wrote:Its not a first date, although there plenty of disatrous ones, wouldn't know where to start. When we started going to discos there was this one boy I really fancied, week after week we dance near him and his mate dancing with the girls of their choice so that maybe the next dance would be mine , it seemed it was not to be then one evening when the girls were thin on the ground, he asked me to dance and a smooch as well, trouble was I found after being swept into his arms, well sort of, I didn't fancy him anymore, he wasn't interested either and as the dance ended off we went in different directions.

Vintage, sounds like the reality wasn't as good as the dream.

Theses stories are bringing back lots of memories.

Like you I had a schoolgirl crush on a boy for years. He left school a few years before me and worked in the local butchers, I used to pray when the weekly cookery class came round it would be a meat dish so I could go into the butchers and he might notice me...but he never did.

When I was 17 I went to a local dance and this lad asked me to dance, like you I danced, said thanks, walked off and that was it.....neither of us wanted a second dance.
A girl I had known from school came over and asked if I knew who it was I had just danced with, I didn't, she told me it was Steven, the boy I had had a crush on for years.