Hello, my name is Doris and I'd like to make a complaint.

I haven't been out with any men for quite some time now as life has been just too darn busy, and to tell the truth, the men I've been seeing recently are just too darn horrible.  I would, as a form of personal psychoanalysis, like to go over the finer details of the 2 dates I shared with David - a rather cooky-looking, well-educated, fifty-something year old who liked to ride his pushbike.  Just about everything I was looking for. At a glance, first date: Grey hair in a well groomed style, glasses, tweed jacket, t-shirt, jeans, Doc Martens and bike helmet on the chair for Christ's sake.  Perfect! David chose the venue for date # 1, and according to the law of averages when internet dating, that venue happened to be in his home suburb. The venue itself was lovely, and we shared an afternoon drink looking out over the Brisbane River, doing the standard get-to-know-you's.  David was rather nervous at first and conversation was a little choppy to begin with.  However,