TOXIC BACHELOR

WANT TO KNOW WHAT MEN REALLY THINK ABOUT LOVE, DATING AND SEX? STEP FORWARD STUART HOOD...

Kate was drunk. So drunk she'd lost the ability to walk or keep food down. Hence I found myself propping her up at a taxi rank while trying to secure a cab.

"Where to mate?" asked the driver. I realised I didn't know. It was our first date, so we hadn't swapped postcodes yet. I went to find out. As I wiped Kate's hair from her face, life slowly stirred. She focused, smiled, lunged and gave me what can only be described as a tumultuous tonguing.

As romantic smooches go, she ranked just above the female tramp I snogged (she tasted of fag butts) after losing a drinking game on a stag weekend in Cardiff. "Kate, what the… ?" I screamed, prising her off. She didn't answer. She couldn't. She was being sick on my jeans.

Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Sure enough, the next day a remorse-filled text arrived. "I'm so sorry," it began. "I was really nervous. If it's any consolation, I feel like death."

It wasn't any consolation. It was, however, confirmation. Verification that the excuse I expected had spouted forth. The good old ‘nerves' were again being used as justification for a woman getting so plastered, she needed to be carried home by a man she'd only just met. Truly pathetic.

Not that I'm criticising Kate for getting nervous. Of course she was nervous. She was putting herself out there to be judged by a member of the opposite sex. That's nerve-racking. And thus it excuses tension. It excuses clumsy conversation.

Heck, it even excuses "a couple more drinks than you'd usually have". What it doesn't excuse, however, is a cocktail to start, a bottle and a half of wine as a main, a gin and tonic for dessert, and regurgitation of all three in the toilet before coffee.

That's not nerves. It's a lack of self-control. You get nervous before job interviews and exams, but how many of them do you drink through? None, obviously, because you'd fail. You can fail dates too you know. Kate, for example, got two Hs – a Hangover and a Hell no.

Dear Toxic Bachelor

I really fancy a guy who gets on my bus every morning. I want to approach him but have no idea what to say. What would you suggest?

Slip the boot on the other foot and think how you'd react if a stranger – who'd possibly been staring at you and drooling for weeks – declared undying love. Psycho, right? Ideally say nothing at all – the chances of it working are infinitesimal.

That said, if you really have to break the ice, do it in a completely impersonal manner. Ask him something innocent like the time, drop your newspaper on the floor beside him, or spill your coffee on him. This will open up a line of communication which, if he fancies you, he will pursue.

Have you got a dating dilemma? Email toxicbachelor@fabulousmag.co.uk