Professional standard

Yesterday's date was with the chap who's a bit of a regular, although I've not seen him for a few months. He turned up - a bit late - but not so much as one would need to complain, but instead of flowers and choccies he brought a tape measure and a paint chart. He's a builder/decorator. It was time to tackle the outer hall and a few other jobs. He assessed the inner hall, ran his hands lightly over the walls and nodded with approval.

"When did I do this, then? Don't seem to recall."

"I did it last year."

"No, love, this is done to a professional standard. Must have done it myself."

"Actually, no. I did it. All of it, from the sanding, filling, more sanding, painting..."

He refused to believe me, imagining that my little female brain had gone into overload confusion. Why do men never believe a woman can do jobs they regard as 'masculine' jobs. I'll have him know I've done a fair bit of painting and decorating in my time. I can wield a sander, a razor-scraper and a paintbrush with the best of 'em.

I only hope he doesn't send me a bill when he discovers he's not invoiced me for work he didn't do.

Great date

At last, a date with a guy whose emails were intelligent and witty, and whose conversation was conducted in grammatical English. He was interesting and I was looking forward to meeting him. I wasn't bowled over by his profile picture but no doubt he could say the same about mine, and anyway I'm not a woman who judges on physical appearances. He suggested a restaurant where we would meet at for lunch.

I arrive bang on time. The restaurant is closed. This is obviously not a man who books. The man in question is nowhere in sight. I wait, and wait. After 15 minutes, having checked my phone for non existent texts, I decide to call to inform him I am going shopping instead. If ever a girl needed to go shopping, it's on a failed date (and I don't even like shopping).

A rough sleeper is ambling towards me. He looks harmless enough but I wonder if he's going to ask me for money. He looks quizzically at me. He shares a very faint resemblance to my date. He is my date. He is quite 10 years older than the photo. His hair has grown unkempt. His jacket is frankly grubby and his jogging bottoms are ragged around the hems. His trainers are muddy. He does not apologize for keeping me waiting but instead has the temerity to look disappointed at what he sees. (Smart velvet jacket, clean black jeans, polished boots, tidy hair, up-to-date photo which is pretty accurate.)

A girl sometimes just needs to go shopping.