ISLINGTON NOW

What are the worst things a man can do to a girl on a first date? The very brave and stupid Patrick Galey finds out.

“In spring,” as Tennyson once wrote, “a young man’s fancy turns lightly to thoughts of love.” Right now, I have a pretty girl sat opposite me with her head in her hands and my thoughts aren’t of love. I’m just focusing on trying not to get slapped.

Charmless Man: Patrick Galey inflicts the date from hell on unsuspecting Laura

I am in the Queen Boadicea on St John’s Street with Laura. Poor, unsuspecting Laura. When she agreed to let me buy her dinner - our first date - she had no idea what she was letting herself in for.

Our night out conveniently coincides with the publication of a list, compiled by 3,000 internet (not so) romantics, of the ten worst things you can do on a first date. My task is simple: commit them all before my victim either leaves or pours wine over my head.

I’ve never really understood dating. My past soirées have been awkward for as long as I’ve stayed sober. Perhaps I’m perfectly qualified to be a worst first date. Just to make sure, I’ve come prepared with professional advice from dating expert Cherie Burback, author of Internet Dating is Not Like Ordering a Pizza.

“Part of good first date conversation is asking about your date,” she says. “Going on and on about yourself without letting your date get a word in edgeways is bad form.”

Good advice , but not for tonight. Let the small talk commence.

“So Laura, what do you do?”

“I work in corporate hospitality,” she says, still trusting and doe-eyed.

“How much do you earn?”Her smile vanishes. She checks to see if I’m joking, which I’m not, and giggles awkwardly. “You can’t ask me that. That’s really rude,” she says. She ain’t seen nothing yet.

I ask her to recommend a wine before overruling her choice. I ask her about her day before interrupting. Then I belch. She must feel like she’s on a date with John Prescott.

According to the dating website match.com, 63 per cent of people can’t bear to see their waiter or waitress maltreated by a partner.

What happens next will haunt me forever. I click my fingers to get the waitress’s attention (top of the faux-pas list). She doesn’t hear so I click louder - so loud in fact that diners on the three surrounding tables fall silent. Laura covers her scarlet face and excuses herself from the table.

I take the opportunity to reacquaint myself with the list. It’s written by internet daters. Internet daters. By definition, these people don’t get much human contact. The list, I conclude, is not nearly cringeworthy enough. I decide to take matters into my own hands.

I begin to flirt outrageously with the girl on the next table, I am mid witty anecdote, when Laura returns. She looks like she’s about to cry and I’m hit by a pang of guilt. She doesn’t deserve this. I have to come clean, to let her know that I’m not such an utter bastard.

A confession is clumsily forming on my lips when the waitress arrives with our food, no doubt garnished with chef’s saliva.

I’ve ordered soup. I pour on salt like a gritting lorry (number three on the list) before slurping noisily (number eight). Laura is either ignoring my bad behaviour or has become numb to it.

Just to make sure, I butter my bread then greedily lick my knife clean. “Wow,” is her incredulous response.

I can’t stop: I’m halfway through the list and she’s still not thrown her fork at me. I lick the plate clean (number four). I pick my teeth with my fingers (six). I even start rating ex-girlfriends, (my own addition).

“Don’t go on about the way your ex treated you. A first date isn’t the time to get feelings off your chest,” says Ms Burback. “Rather, you should be getting a sense of the person sitting in front of you.” Laura certainly has a sense of the person sitting in front of her. Without asking, I help myself to some of her salmon and she begins laughing.

“What’s up?” I ask, indignant. “You are the rudest person I’ve ever met,” she says. I can’t deny it.

Since leaving a tip has never been my forte (number ten), I explain my behaviour to Laura over coffee.

“That was worst experience ever,” she says, still looking dazed. “I thought you were the most arrogant man I’ve ever met. In fact, I almost walked out on you.”

I leave - alone, of course - thinking about the people who commit these crimes against dating. My conclusion? Anyone self-involved enough to talk over their date or click their fingers at the waiting staff probably doesn’t deserve love, whatever the season.