Confessions of... a man hater

When I was a teenager, I was two things, a binge drinker and a man hater.

My mum was a man hater before me, even though this year she's been married for forty odd years, and my gran was a man hater before her, even though she had been married for sixty odd years when she passed.

They warned me "don't get married 'til you're fed up with life". I've had my off days but I can't say I've ever been fed up with life... so, here I am, still single and approaching 40.

Marriage has never been of interest to me. Half the time dating hasn't been of interest to me. I'm independent, I enjoy living alone, I make my own money and I spend it as I wish, I come and go as I please, I do what I want, when I want. Sometimes I'm alone but I'm not lonely. There's a big difference. I'm happy the way I am and I've never met anyone that's changed how I feel. Never say never though.

Maybe hate is a strong word. I have male friends, lots of male friends, in fact, sometimes I think I get on better with men than with women but settle down with one, I think that would be a step too far.

I've lived in the same town all my life so occasionally I'll bump into an old flame or someone I've been on a horrific first date with. These encounters always bring back amusingly awful memories of my past. Here are a few that spring to mind.

My first real job, as my mum would call it, was working in the local hospital. It was a 9-5 job, pretty decent salary for my age, and not far from where I lived.

After working there for awhile, one of the Porters came into my office and asked to speak to me. Everyone else was on their tea break, he'd waited for his moment and pounced, if only. He was an extremely shy person, I'd spoken to him on several occasions in passing but nothing in-depth, he seemed like a really nice guy but not my type.

He was physically shaking. Like a leaf. His face, bright red, beaming. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out for a drink sometime, tonight even, if you're free"? he asked. When I was younger, I didn't know how to say no to people and would agree to far too many things just to keep other people happy. "Yes, okay then", I said, slightly dying inside.

My colleagues started to reappear from their tea break. He skipped away in delight like a demented goat. I stood there with a face like fizz. Everyone started laughing and asked what was wrong. I can't hide my face, one of my many flaws. I told them the disturbing news and they continued laughing.

I now had to go home and prepare for a date with someone I had absolutely no interest in, whatsoever, and to make things worse, he was a nice person which meant I had to pretend to be a nice person and be on my best behaviour, something I find very difficult.

Skip forward a few hours, we'd arranged to meet at a local bar. I get there and he's waiting at the entrance for me, wearing a goddamn suit with shoulder pads. Shoulder pads. It's a Thursday night in Scotland and he's wearing a suit with shoulder pads. I'm dating Herman Munster. Dress to impress must've been his moto for the evening.

We walk to the bar and I hope we don't meet anyone I know incase they ask who's funeral we were at.

The new and hip drink at the time was Raspberry Archers, all the girls were drinking them. They were like WKD only posher. I asked for a Raspberry Archers and to my absolute horror, he said "I'll have one too". I burst out laughing, thinking he's joking, right? No. He was so nervous, he couldn't even order the drink he wanted, whatever that was. I said jokingly "Do you want a straw with that"? and he replied "Are you having one"? Someone, kill me, now.

We sat down with our drinks and I hoped that after a couple of Archers, he might calm down and maybe we could at least have a laugh. I tried to make some conversation but I was only getting yes or no answers from him.

We sat in silence for awhile, it felt like an eternity but they hadn't thrown us out the pub so it couldn't have been. He sat there, I could see him thinking, desperately trying to find a question or topic to ask me about and then he said, "What did you mum say about your date tonight"? What! What do you mean? "Erm, nothing, why, what did your mum say"? I was scared to ask. "She was really excited for me. She told me to wear my suit". That explains alot.

I made my excuses, finished my drink and left.

My future mother-in-law's excitement was the final straw, boom boom.

You'll be happy to know, this lovely young man has a longterm girlfriend now. When I bump into him, we always have a few drinks together. We're friends. Our date has never been mentioned. I like to think he's finally found someone he can order a pint with.