THE WINNING LINES: Tales from my dating days #13

This is terribly shallow of me, and I’m still quite ashamed of myself.

I went on a date with a chap who may well have been very nice. Or perhaps he wasn’t. I genuinely have no idea.

I couldn’t concentrate on a word he said, all evening, because I was too transfixed by the enormous pulsating boil next to his nose.

Seriously, I think it had hypnotic powers as I couldn’t look away from it all night. If I close my eyes, I can still picture its magnificent glory. I don’t remember the guy’s name, but I do remember that I named the pustule “Augustus The Majestic”.

I’m very sorry, Mr Whoever-You-Were. I hope you found someone more deserving of your company than me.