 the date with the accountant by julie mcdowall my next date was with the accountant who wore the eyepatch it wasn t a fashion statementeye patch if such a thing exists and he wasn t trying to dress like a swashbuckling johnny depp rather he looked as though he d just spent a saturday night in a e and had been sent home concussed and bandaged up we were meeting in beanscene on saturday afternoon he seems to have a very bossy streak having intructed me to sit in the window this riles me as it means i need to perch awkwardly on the spindly bar stools i had intended to get there first and be found lazing seductively on the brown leather sofa but no the accountant has ordered me to sit there so he can find me suddenly i realise he might still be stumbling around with that eyepatch on and will genuinely need help in finding me this softens me a bit though i m still not happy with the window and the harsh daylight on my face i can feel the sunlight showing up every blemish and pore on my face all the fine makeup skills don t matter a jot if you re not welllit don t accountants know this so i stir my coffee and try to twist around on the stool to get away from the glare feeling very exposed my stupid feet don t even come close to touching the floor on this chair how am i supposed to get down without looking like a heaving hippo as i m pondering these difficulties a man appears wearing my clothes it s him check this out he says and gestures to his red cowboy shirt this is practically the same shirt you re wearing in one of your photos i thought it d be a laugh to wear it imitation is the highest form of flattery yes but not when it s middleaged accountants who re copying you nonetheless i admit it is indeed a laugh i also secretly admit to being glad he s not wearing the eyepatch and crashing into things these dates are stressful enough without shattered crockery he sits down and we start the niceynice first date chat it s hard to work him out he s a middleaged accountant and seems very tidy prim and serious yet he has turned up dressed as me i m intrigued so i m doing my third degree just now he says a masters in statistical modelling i m baffled by anything involving numbers i still use my fingers to count i ask him what statistical modelling is exactly he puts his coffee cup down and scoots his chair closer well it s quite difficult to grasp it s basically maths with fashion design this knockout punchline is delivered in such a serious manner that i miss it completely he helps me out joke he says oh i say then i laugh but the moment has passed i look at him not fair to crack jokes with that grim accountant face how do i know when the gags are coming statistical models indeed well here s a statistic for him 99 of women don t like their dates to dress up as them he whistles and stirs his coffee silence descends he shakes the foam off his spoon and places it on the counter next to mine hey is it ok if our spoons touch he asks eager to make up for missing his last attempt at humour i giggle heartily at this one but i ve come too soon because he then says oooh look we re spooning on a first date but i ve used up my big laugh so can only smile argh it s not going well our humour is out of sync and i can t relax with a man who s wearing my togs i try to start a new topic by telling him how much he looks like woody allen but i quickly realise this is a barefaced insult we grind to a halt more silence he goes off to order himself another coffee and i take this valuable time to discreetly peep into my hand mirror to see if my skin still looks like the surface of the moon or is the afternoon sun becoming kinder it s always a risk to take your mirror out on a date because it seems if you re desperately wanting to look good for him i don t i just need assurance that i m not the elephant man in a purple shift dress the accountant is in the queue with his back to me so it s safe i m checking my face when he appears at my side suddenly and catches me mirrorhanded listen i m short of five pence can you i give him the money and watch him rejoin the queue that s five pence i won t be seeing again and that s a man i won t be seeing again either issue 2 julie mcdowall loved reading this very permalink submitted by patricia not verified on february 26 2013 729 loved reading this very funny and well written i have suffered greatly at the hand of accountants in the workplace rather than the dating arena you were lucky you could escape  reply 