Another one of my eHarmony matches was Marco, a tall, dark, funny Italian man. He travelled the world and worked for various fashion brands. Upon our email exchanges, he seemed very cultivated, literate and ambitious.

So, meet Marco, 5’11, slim figure, black wavy hair and a goatee beard. I really appreciated that he called me to arrange the date and we had a fun and enthusiastic call. I was really excited to date a stylish Italian.

The date

We met at Oxford Circus station. I don’t understand why people like to meet at stations? Why not head directly to a pub or bar? I wouldn’t mind waiting. Sometimes, I wonder if it's not a lack of confidence; the fear of standing at a table alone. Well, I haven't done it so far because I am always late or right on time, but I surely wouldn't mind. Anyhow, Marco was waiting for me next to the Nike store. I immediately recognised him. He looked the same yet with additional lines on the forehead. He shook my hand, but I had already aimed to kiss his cheek in my French way, which made our salutation quite awkward.

Marco asked me to follow him without saying a single word or without any sign of happiness or satisfaction to see each other for real.

I followed Marco, and all through our trip to this far-located pub he was looking at himself in every mirror or window possible, always readjusting something on him: his jacket, his hat, his glasses.

We arrived at O'Neill's, which is an Irish pub located on Wardour Street. Marco opened the door but probably forgot that I was with him as the thick glass collided with my head, making me see stars for a second and feel rather dazed. I shouted out (very) loud in French out of pain, “Aieeeeeeee." The crowd looked at him in disgust and a few men came to me, but Marco quickly stepped back apologising and ashamed. "I am so sorry my love. But no drama needed, you'll survive baby," he said unemotionally.

I was still checking that I hadn’t lost an eye, when Marco sat at a table and asked what I wanted to drink. “What about a plaster and a painkiller,” I joked.

Marco looked at me unfazed. I requested a glass of Merlot. A few minutes later, he came back with a beer. I wasn't sure what had happened or if my Merlot was coming, so I didn't say anything for a few seconds until he asked, "Are you going to let me drink alone?" I then understood that I had to order it myself.

Heading towards the counter, all I had in my mind was, "Should I stay or should I go now?" While waiting for my drink: "Should I stay or should I go now?" Whilst heading back towards our table: "Should I stay or should I go now?"

But I decided to stay. Why would he be here with me if he weren’t interested? What sort of guy acts like that? I wanted to found out.

As soon as I arrived, Marco started babbling about his life, his marvellous flat in Chelsea, his beautiful sister, and his fantastic car. I wondered if he wasn't about to compliment how beautiful his poo was.

Marco bragged about how his designs had been likened to Alexander McQueen and that he successfully graduated from St Martins College and that all other fashion schools in London were shit and produced losers. Considering how the date was so far, I would have thought he was coming from Asshole Boot Camp. Well, everybody has a right to be big-headed, but some like Marco were just exaggerating and an earsore for me.

When I finally decided that I had had enough and was about to tell him, his phone rang and obviously being rude as he was, he picked up without apologising. I was putting my coat on.

“Sorry Vanessa, give me one minute,” he finally begged and apologised.

“My name’s Valérie thanks. I have to go.” I replied firmly.

Marco hung up and thanked me for the great evening he had. Well, we were not at the same date, but maybe he just liked listening to himself. I smiled. We kissed goodbye politely.

Needless to say, I didn’t see Marco again. Especially when I got home and realised I had the biggest bump in my life on my forehead. It was so painful!

Marco dared to text me a few days later, but I didn't bother replying. I knew from that day that I would never marry a man without manners. Next!