Saturday 30 January 2010

Rochester's questionnaire

One of the features of the dating site I dabbled with last year was that you could set your potential suitors 'a test'. You'd write a list of 'yes or no' questions you would like the love-lorn rogues to answer, and then use their responses to assess their suitability. Of course, most of the questions set on the site are terribly tedious, along the lines of 'dogs or cats' or 'HP or tomato ketchup'?

The most recent test I was sent was so dull I absolutely refused to answer it. The first two questions were

1. Are you an organised person?
2. Do you enjoy a challenge?

Dear God! I suspect the sneaky cove was looking for someone to complete his tax return or tidy up his sock drawer.

Rochester set the most endearingly irreverent questions. I don't recall them all, sadly. I did have all the Rochester correspondence saved, but sadly my laptop was stolen and I lost everything. I do remember many of the swarthy rogue's questions were deemed too risque and were disallowed by the dating site: all references to cocaine and swinging were swiftly eliminated. Some of his more memorable questions were:

1. We hit it off, but then, over dinner it transpires that you have actually shagged my big brother. What do you do?

2. You notice I have a rampant thatch of nasal hair. Do you dump me or discreetly buy me some clippers for Christmas?

3. I have a crush on Letitia Dean. This has been known to send women into a complete frenzy. How do you cope with that?

4. I bring you breakfast in bed on a walnut tray. It is a plate of marmite on toast. Are you pleased?

5. We're in love, and plan to through a party. I invite all of my ex-girlfriends. Is this OK with you?

6. A handsome best friend of mine make a pass at you. Do you tell me?

7. In the middle of a romantic meal I suddenly start doing Tommy Cooper impressions. Does this bother you?

I wish I could remember the rest.

I continue attract a very odd bunch on men on the interweb. This week's 'catch' was a chinless cretin who purported to be a successful musician and composer. He has been 'stalking' me with emails for days. He sent me a link to his website - what a revelation that was!!! Apparently, the 'Easy Listening' composer has performed on Songs of Praise, practices Reiki healing, is a trained Relate marriage guidance counsellor. His motto is 'seek and you shall find.'

The picture on his website shows him poised above his organ, all floppy fringed and silk-scarved, like an aging Sebastian Flyte. Too much of a 'feathery stroker' for me. On the F.S. spectrum I fear he is hovering around the 'Richard Madeley' end. When it comes to men of the male gender, I need a bit more testosterone. I am looking for Nick Cave crossed with a young Paul Newman: a brooding, dour intensity combined with the ability to mix a decent salad dressing.

Oh - but I failed to mention the best bit about my effete admirer: he only has one leg! Now really, I do not want to appear leggist, but when it comes to requirements in a potential partner then I do expect a minimum of 2 legs, as standard. I am sure Paul McCartney would agree with me wholeheartedly on this point.

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