When I came back to London, I felt like I still had an Italian vibe in me; I was joyful, energetic, full of life, and confident.

Well, in truth, the Italian vibe also had a name: Michele.

I met Michele virtually on Tinder. He had a full written profile, very rare on Tinder. He described himself as a charming gentleman with a very positive attitude towards life. Exactly the sort of feelings I had upon my return.

Therefore, I accepted a date with Michele for the following week.

Date No.1

We decided to meet at Piccadilly Station. I arrived right on time. Michele recognised me and welcomed me with a warm hug and a big smile. I was impressed; he was far better-looking in person.

So, meet Michele: Italian, dark, 5’10, and very well dressed. He had this light Italian accent that gave him a certain attitude and enhanced the whole look of him. He was very charming.

We went for a drink at the very commercial Jewel Piccadilly. We sat at a table and Michele ordered our drinks. So Jewel Piccadilly is located in one of the most lucrative areas of London: Piccadilly Circus. It’s a cocktail bar 95% packed with tourists. This proportion reaches 99.5% in summer time. Yet, Jewel Piccadilly is fun and serves delicious cocktails at reasonable prices.

Well, back to my date, Michele was very chatty and full of energy. He was like a kid, amazed by all the wonders of the world, and he was full of gratitude for all the experiences he had had.

Michele moved to London six years before and was working for a big marketing company. That was all I managed to get from him.

After a few drinks and with both of our brains altered by champagne and wine, Michele started a series of selfies: the wine and me, the champagne and me, the wine, the champagne, the champagne and me, the wine and him, the champagne and him, the champagne and him, the champagne and us. I'd never had so many pictures taken in such a short time. After our photo session, Michele took my hands and we hit the dance floor in one of Jewel's rooms. Michele was clinging to me all night and we danced until Jewel closed.

Post-date No.1

Back home, I didn’t even have time to think about our date. I collapsed on my bed, with my clothes on, and a big smile on my face. That was enough for the day.

In the morning, I had a massive hangover. And I had 75 WhatsApp messages from Michele, which included 74 pictures and one text. Michele had really enjoyed our night and wanted to see me again. Apart from the selfie session, I was excited by the fun, his personality and his positive attitude. I, therefore, accepted the second date.

Date No.2

Michele invited me for lunch in a Chinese Restaurant called Pearl Liang near Paddington. He greeted me with a hug. It was cute and warm. He asked how my week was and related the marketing issues he was facing at work. I really wanted to learn more about him as a person and asked about his family and friends. I understood that he was the only child and all of his best friends were in Leica, Southern Italy. We spent all of our lunch looking at billions of pictures on his phone relating his summer holidays in Naples, Miami, Nairobi or his ski trips to Finland, Austria, France, and Italy. All his life was in pictures, and I assumed it was his way to document it.

Though again, I learned nothing substantial about him, so I questioned, “What makes you shiver? What makes you angry? You can’t have this smile all the time?”

Michele just replied, "I am always happy; life is too short to bother. I always find something positive out of a bad experience."

“What sort of bad experiences have you had?” I demanded.

“Well, I don’t keep them in mind. I don’t store this sort of garbage in my brain. So, I won’t be able to tell you,” he responded with a big smile on his face. I was suspicious. Michele definitely had something to hide. Everything seemed too faked to be true. He couldn’t be that perfect. In fact, for me, he was imperfect to be so perfect. Something was wrong. I was longing to find out.

“So, why you don’t have a girlfriend then? You seem so perfect,” I insisted.

“Well Valérie, I am very easy. I am happy to be alive. I'm grateful I have a job. And the more I like my life, the more I bring joy and love in it. That is all!” he boasted, still wearing that annoying broad smile.

Dessert served, Michele realised that the waitress had brought a different dessert from what he had asked for. There it was, for the first time, I saw a bit of annoyance in his all-teeth-smile.

"Damn, is it that hard to remember that I picked the same dessert as yours? She can't even do this shitty job properly!" he grinned nervously and left the table to bring his plate back to the waitress. Now, I was starting to know more about the real Michele. This character was rather interesting, and I wasn't sure I'd like him.

When he came back, Michele giggled stupidly, "You won't believe it! I couldn't recognise who served us." He added, laughing out loud, "God made every person different, but I think he went lazy on China. They all look alike!" He couldn't stop laughing and snorting at his own joke. I was just staring at him and I didn't even give him a smile. That joke was mega lame, and it nearly felt like he had prepared the joke his entire life for the sole purpose to make a date laugh. Well, not me.

Dessert sorted and eaten, we hugged and parted ways silently. It was awkward. I left the date feeling more mixed about Michele than ever. Who was that guy? What was he hiding?

Post-date No.2

I realised that I still didn’t know much about Michele and his jokes left little to be desired. And that smile he was wearing all the time, like he had spent all his childhood summers in Big Smile Boot Camps – I truly thought this was just an armour to hide real painful feelings and experiences that I was willing to find out. That was the only reason why I accepted another date to one of my favourite museums in town, the Tate Modern.

Date No.3

I met Michele at the Tate Café. He was all joyful and again welcomed me with a big smile and finally dared to kiss me.

I sat and ordered a latte when Michele started a selfie session. He photographed: his coffee, my latte being served, both coffee and latte, myself and the latte, himself and the coffee, both of us and my latte, both of us and his coffee, both of us with both drinks, both of us, and both of us kissing. After ten minutes, I was already sick of posing.

After my selfie shoot, Michele and I walked toward the museum, and out of the blue Michele started laughing out loud, like there was no tomorrow. At first, I looked at him with a smile. At some point, Michele couldn’t stop giggling to the point he was choking. I inquired, slightly annoyed, “What’s so funny?” Michele was still suffocating on his own laugh and couldn’t say a word.

“Come on,” I said. “I want to laugh with you.”

And he responded, “Look at that man,” he pointed, without a drop of shame, at a young man, mouth wide open, in an armchair.

Michele explained, “When I see that sort of person, I am so grateful to God that I am a handsome and fit Italian man! He’s fucking so ugly! He looks like he has Down's Syndrome. Can’t he just shut his big mouth? We don't need to see his ugly teeth.”

The man was, in fact, a young disabled boy. I bet he was not even 15 year-old. It wasn’t funny at all. I found his attitude detestable and I replied, “I really don’t think your attitude is appropriate. I’d rather you’d stop laughing. You’re embarrassing me.”

Michele apologised and somehow stopped laughing instantly. Yet, I decided to leave without notice and disappeared in the crowd. Michele deserved this ending, and I was happy to ignore all his calls and texts. I also deleted all the silly selfies we had together. Next!