No more Mr Nice Guy

It all started really well. The woman from the website (let's call her Sarah) said she was up for some banter. Music to my ears, as there is nothing that I enjoy more than some verbal sparring (West Ham winning the league might be on a par, but I'm trying to be realistic). Let battle commence. But it was soon apparent that her idea of banter was replying 'lol' to my mickey taking. And there is nothing I hate more than seemingly articulate people having nothing more imaginative to say than having to resort to text speak - you're not 15 (at least, I hope you're not). By the second night, she was coming on really heavy. 'When did you split up with your last girlfriend?', 'why did it end?' and 'do you plan to get back together?' were among a salvo of questions I had to field. All valid enquiries in the fullness of time (although if the answer to the third question is 'yes', I'm hardly likely to tell the truth), but should they be asked before she even knows my name - and thinks I live in a treehouse (it's a long story)? It then transpires that she's not enjoying my ribbing. No problems. I can do 'pleasant'. So I move on to 'how was your day?'-type questions. By the end of the evening, Sarah is saying how much she likes me when I'm 'nice'. Indeed. But if was looking for a 'nice' relationship, I'd go out with my mum. That's obviously a theoretical statement; not because my mum is with my dad and is too old for me - it's just that she's the nicest person I know. But I want spark, energy, chemistry and the wow factor - and Sarah is in danger of heading down the motherly path. And then she phones me. That's not the way it works. I am an enigmatic stranger who sends witty emails and text messages for several weeks. Then we meet up, she doesn't fancy me and I find a new victim. Part of the reason is that despite being public school educated, I sound like an extra from a Guy Ritchie movie. And having a face only a mother could love is probably another factor. So I ignore the call, making up some excuse to her. In the meantime, someone I met in February and asked out (unsuccessfully) is back on the scene. She gives great text. Every time my phone buzzes, I hope it is from her. We have arranged to meet up in a couple of weeks. And she doesn't live 100 miles away.