Messaged me just before the date to say he didn't like the look of the cafe we'd agreed to meet at, so could I meet him at the corner of the street, so we could discuss where to go. (It was a basic greasy spoon - it wasn't at all posh, but it had tables and chairs and was clean, and we could have sat there chatting, which is the main requirement of a firat date.)
So I met him outside, where he was wearing an anorak on one of the hottest days this summer, which has been the hottest summer ever.
We walked round the block, and he kept trying to touch my arm and back, and them snatching his hand away, seeming to remember he wasn't meant to. Then he asked if I minded, and I said I wasn't comfortable, so he said he always respected women's space, and I thought, "not till I told you to stop, you didn't."
In the pub we ended up in, he thanked me for looking like my photo. He hypocritically admitted his were a few years old. Then he told me about all the terrible dates he'd been on ("and here's another," I was thinking, "and there's one common factor...") I also listened to him talking about his dead girlfriend who had died two years before (and IMO, he needed to take more time grieving.) He had learnt to stop trying to touch me, but wouldn't meet my eye at all.
And after about 45 minutes, he said, "right, I'll be going now," picked up his things and walked out, without looking back.
So I went on to a friend's party and snagged a bloke I met there (and whom I've seen a few times since.) So it turned out not to be all bad...