"I have NO PATIENCE for dinosaurs"

SOME LIKE IT

Franco stood, naked, in front of the mirror. He really couldn't see why he was still single. Dark hair, dark eyes, good bone structure, great teeth, good body tone, taut butt, twisting slightly round just to check, reasonably packed, athletic legs, though he didn't like his feet, but hey, its not as if he put them on the table when meeting new partners for the first time.

"Hi, my names Franco, nice to meet you, hey, look at my feet".

That didn't happen.

He stood a while longer in front of the long mirror, wishing he could see what other people did that put them off, but he drew a blank.

A big nada.

He checked the clock and realised he had wasted enough time standing naked in his bedroom and, having already shaved and sprayed, walked over to his wardrobe to select this evening's killer outfit.

"What should I wear" he thought to himself, flicking through his shirts and trousers. "Hmm".

He considered himself, as did others, quite a sharp dresser, a real head turner in fact, which made it even more puzzling as to why he failed in his conquests with women, it just made him more and more insecure.

One time back, when things were getting him really down, he even considered that perhaps he was self-sabotaging and that maybe...he was gay. Admittedly that thought didn't stay long as he knew in his heart that wasn't true, but you get rejected time and time again...well...you have to re-evaluate your situation.

Tonight, was going to be purple and black. A deep purple shirt with plain black trousers, well cut and tailored. Now, what about accessories. Eyeing through his belts the orange jumped out, as if shouting "Me, me. Choose me". Pulling the orange belt through his trouser loops he scanned over his shoe selection and found a coordinating pair of shiny bright orange Chelsea's that would do just fine.

He returned to the mirror, brushing himself off, and was pleased with the selection, no need for a jacket tonight, and undid an extra button of his shirt.

"Yup, all good" he said to himself, walking to the door, picking up his keys and slimline wallet. Before closing the door, he turned the little table lamp on and flicked off the ceiling light, leaving the bathroom window open for Tabby to come and go if needed. He hadn't seen her all afternoon, so figured she had figured she had found something interesting or who knows what. That's pets for you. One day they can find entertainment in a scrap of paper for hours, the next day, can't be bothered with anything.

Franco trotted down the stairs of his flat and jumped into his car that was conveniently parked almost outside and drove through the streets to the restaurant, where he was going to meet his blind date for the evening.

They had mutual friends and had been matched accordingly, both having been single for a while and both having similar interests, apparently, but the last time he had been told "Oh, you've got so much in common with so and so" it turned out that she hated his taste in literature and he thought she was a bit of a...monster (though he didn't tell her...not to her face...well...maybe a bit).

"I mean, honestly" he gesticulated to his mate Dave who had set them up "the way she blows her nose, its disgusting" he said grimacing "she checks for treasure" he said heaving, remembering the final straw when she laughed so loud, she choked on her dessert, blew her nose and he could literally count the seconds she spent inspecting the contents of her tissue. "I mean, who would do that".

All he got in return was a "Beggars can't be choosers, man, beggars can't be choosers". That was the last time he relied on that friend for a hook-up.

The bistro was your typical Italian fare. Easy lighting, intimate tables, raffia covered bottles for decoration and plastic red gingham table cloths, complete with a candle stuck in a used wine bottle for extra mood enhancement, and when he arrived, he noticed that she was already sitting there, waiting for him.