Yanking my date through an Israeli security services lie detector
I was on holiday in Blackpool when I picked up my first advice on finding love. While waiting for my sister to recover after her stomach churning rollercoaster ride, I stuck 20p into a Love-O-Meter outside a sports pub. After my coin clicked down the pegs, the fiberglass females face flashed and shook like the washer-dryer under my sink, before requesting I stick my thumb into a gooey gum-filled finger hole. A strip of yellow paper popped from the slot.
8/10. Youre hot, but not too hot, big boy! But thats enough for some lucky lady!
A top twenty percent score surely meant Id meet a world-class soul-mate. But here I am fifteen years later in London, and after a few serious (and several scary) relationships, Im still waiting for that mechanical maidens prediction to come true. Only two months back, after ending a three-year relationship with my former flat-mates sister, I re-joined the nations throng of nine million singles. Strangely, it was the exs womanizing brother that helped ease me back into the dating scene.
Davis had the mastered the art of pulling women on dating sites...
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