He spent the start of our date complaining about his ex: “She never loved me, she just saw me as a sperm donor!”.
He also spent the middle part of our date complaining about her “I love my daughter, even though my ex just sees me as the man who donated the sperm to make her!”.
By the end of the date: “My ex is a heartless cow! I’m just a sperm donor to her!”, I was wearing a rictus grin & contemplating stabbing myself to death with a spoon.
I kept a tally of how many times he used the phrase “sperm donor”. Nine times. That’s nine times too many.
“You’re very intelligent, aren’t you? I don’t like to date intelligent women. I find it intimidating.”
“You’re a woman, so how do you know so much about music? Then again, you’re not really a girly girl, are you? You’re more into the things that the blokes are. I bet you’re still into hair and handbags though.”
I have a variety of interests, including music. I don’t really see music as being something specifically male or female, but then again, I don’t think interests should really be classed by gender. I’m not hugely into hair or handbags, for the record, but so what if I was?