It was another date in a series, back when I flirted with such things as women and wine.
I reckon it must have been just over two years ago when I first came across her profile. I know this because I was using my sister Anne's laptop, while I stayed with her for the week that turned into three months.
We had the banter online, she was a nice sort and I enjoyed seeing her messages on the screen. She was a good bit younger than me, 21 or 22 I think, but she seemed to get it.
Seemed to get it.
After a few weeks I wanted to put a few drinks to the fake name, so I suggested meeting in town. She agreed. All well and good.
I was in the Stags when she cancelled. It was very short notice, I was a couple of hours from our date, but she said she couldn't go through with it.
I was relieved, it meant I could turn my couple of lip looseners into a fiesta of ale and codology. I was a bit vexed at the same time, not like I was proposing a lifetime commitment.
I didn't contact her for a while after that - no point when there were plenty of others to virtually connect with.
She texted me weeks later when I was back in the same seat in the Stags, in the same company, drinking myself to the same stupidity. Small talk, she said she was sick and needed looking after. I joked that I'd be right over with some Lemsip and a moist towel.
This went on and we agreed on another date. She promised she'd keep this one, that she'd acted like a schoolgirl the first time. "Very well, see you Wednesday so," I probably wrote back.
On the day itself my phone beeped. "I know this is a strange question," she wrote. "But what height are you?"
"5'7," I responded. "5'9" in heels."
"LOL. Just that I'm a bit taller. Is that a problem for you?"
I didn't care. I'm not easily intimidated.
Cut to later on and she showed up at Trinity. I was expecting an athletic six-footer with a testosterone overkill. What I got was a 5'5" banker with braces.
She remained convinced, however, that she was taller than me. She told me she wore runners to compensate. I thanked her profusely and thought she was a fool, but I didn't want to make the girl feel bad so I suggested the nearest pub where we could sit and she could dazzle me with her tedium.
So it passed. She spent the whole night talking about her teddy bears, about how much she loved her daddy, about how she found it hard to find men tall enough to match her. All five feet five inches of her.
I had sent her the link to Radgery.
"What did you think of the blog."
"Well, to be honest, I didn't get it. You use a lot of big words."
We went on inanely. She went on inanely, more to the point. I just thought of the most painful places I could needle myself in.
"The left bollock."
"Oh my apologies. I was thinking of a funny joke someone told me earlier."
"Heh heh, anyway, I sleep with 'Fluffy' but 'Bunny' stays in my handbag and guards my make-up."
"Wow. That must be... Wow."
I started talking about something or other and she interrupted me. She was picking a scab and looking confused.
"So, are you, like, really intelligent."
"It's just that I was with this fella once and he used a lot of big words but he wasn't very tall..."
"I have to go. Really sorry. But I'm about to get a text message from someone trying to save me."
"Only joking, but it's getting late and I've an early start."
She collected her bag and we left the pub. As we were walking down Dame Street she hit me with it. She broke my fucking heart.
"Look, I'm really sorry, but I'm not looking for a boyfriend right now."
"You're not pissed off with me?"
"Well, to be honest, I'm a bit disappointed but given time I'll get over the pain."
"Aw, honey, I really hope we see each other again as friends some time."
"Yeah, me t... TAXI!"
I sent her on her way, and never saw Apparently Too Tall Elaine again. A stone cold fox.