2. This one is actually quite tough. I mean, loads of things I used to consider deal breakers (hairy chests, children...) aren't any more. Maybe that's my goalposts shifting as I age. Maybe maturity has taught me that people aren't a collection of pros and cons, but that we're all a lot more complex than that. So I'm going to be a conscientious objector here and say that not only do I have no hard-line deal breakers, but that I find the concept lazy. Way to dismiss someone before you get to know them, guys! F1 Kate
3. Considering my latest XOJane.co.uk entry you might be surprised to learn I have deal breakers. Not only do I have deal breakers but they are legion. I like to think this comes from years of overlooking things, I have become wise to some indicators it's not going to work. In the event of a date (unlikely) on a hot day a deal breaker would be for my male date to arrive in a vest. If they express anxiety of merging our CD and vinyl collections (as if) I would, at the very least, feel mildly offended. Failure to be polite, eat with your mouth closed, laugh at my hilarious anecdotes...all deal breakers. Refusal to update that ill-informed Deep Thought you had at the age of 17 in philosophy A Level class is my ultimate deal breaker though. Because gee. Squeamish Kate
4. I’m very fortunate that I’ve never been on a bad date - well except the time one of my friends brought his new girlfriend along on ‘lads night out’ and she'd clearly thought she was going out on a date, but I digress. While there are lots of ways a theoretical date might offend me, to be honest there’s not a single thing (however vapid or offensive) that would cause me to storm off. I’m simply too British. My nature and cultural upbringing just doesn’t allow me to respond that way. I’d spend the entire night making awkward small talk with the uncomfortable silences getting longer and longer, hating every moment of it but unable to do anything but sit there and endure it. And then I’d go home and write an incredibly sarcastic post about the absolutely ghastly person I’d met that day! That’s the British way. Gareth
5. I once went on a kind of blind date. This was all my own fault, I had been at the student union, seen some very tall bearded man across the room and decided to pinch his bum and tell him he was “the most beautiful man I had ever seen.” In student world this did in fact get you number and a date. The next day I didn't have the foggiest idea what he looked like. I sobered up for the date but Mr Most-Beautiful-Man-I-Had-Ever-Seen decided to do the opposite. He wasn't beautiful and he was very nervous. This seemed to call for 6 pints, coupled with 6 whiskey chasers. I was not feeling very comfortable with the renamed Mr Slur-a-lot and would feel entirely less comfortable when the drunken giant spilled his beer down my top as we two stepped (or I two stepped as he spun) on the union's dance floor. Deal breaker. I went home and put my beer goggles in the bin. Squeamish Nicola