Date Diaries: The Man Who Turned Up With No Teeth

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This week, Grace a 27-year-old heterosexual PR executive from Bath experiences the downside of small town dating yet again...*

Small town syndrome, when it comes to dating, is a real thing. You see the same people all the time. Everyone seems to know your business, including what you’ve had for breakfast. Naturally, dating is absolutely impossible without every inside detail of your romance (literally) going around like wildlife. But what’s a girl to do? Stop dating?!

I met Dan in our local pub one evening. I knew his younger sister, and that his previous girlfriend was the lead singer of a popular girl band. Like I said, small town syndrome.

I already knew he wasn't my type - I was put off by the seen-better-days silver chain he wore around his neck. But, when he asked for my number, I was a couple of drinks down and feeling giddy. Suddenly silver-chain guy seemed like a hot bad boy.

The next day, I woke up to a text from him asking me out on a date. With my beer goggles off, I politely declined and braced myself for the inevitable awkward run-in.

I saw him again a couple of months later and, like clockwork, he asked me out again the next morning. I don’t know whether it was because I was bored, having not dated in a long time, or because I was feeling rebellious, but I suddenly had a change of heart and agreed to a pub date.

On the day of the date, he picked me up in his blacked out BMW. I got in and we did that awkward thing of not really looking at each other as I slid into the car. Instead, we asked each other ‘how are you?’ about 50 times before speeding off. I continued to look forward out of sheer awkwardness but, when we arrived at the pub and got out the car, I realised I had missed a glaring change in his face that I could have used the drive to acclimatise to.

Looking at me dead in the eye, he smiled wide and I realised: he had no front teeth. Not even just one missing tooth: like four of his teeth were missing. ‘I swear he had teeth?!’ I thought, as we walked into the pub, unsure of how to address it.

When we sat down and he was finally opposite me, there was no avoiding it. Luckily he brought it up for me. ‘So I guess you’ve noticed then?’ he said sheepishly. ‘Yes, it’s pretty hard to miss,’ I laughed. ‘So… what happened?’

He proceeded to tell me that he got into a fight in a nightclub, making sure to emphasise that he was protecting a woman who was being harassed by some guy, when his front teeth were knocked out.

There was something about he way he told the story with so much pride that made me realise, he really thought this would impress me. He clearly played the hero in the story, but definitely not my kind of hero.

Because, not only was I concerned that I was on a date with someone with no teeth, I now had to pretend that I was concerned for his safety throughout the story.

Out of politeness, I stayed for a few more drinks. Our conversation was good – not great, but good – but I could not stop looking at his missing teeth. How am I meant to focus on falling in love when, every time this man’s mouth opened, he looked like a giant baby?

Soon enough though, I was off the hook. His phone rang and, while I’d normally chastise someone for answering, I was glad for the respite to tell my WhatsApp group chat everything.

He walked off to talk to whoever was interrupting our toothless endeavour and, when he returned five minutes later, I realised I was about to be let off for good.

‘I’m sorry but I’m going to have to go,’ he said. ‘That was my mate on the phone. He’s just got into a fight, and he needs help.’

‘Oh really?’ I replied, trying to sound disappointed. ‘That’s fine, it’s getting late anyway.’

As we walked back to the car, my head was spinning. Not only had this man arrived at our date toothless because of a fight, he was now ditching me to get in another one. ‘Why had I ever agreed to date this moron?’ I asked myself.

When we got home, he let me know he’d love to see me again, which I politely declined. When my girls messaged to find out what was going on, I gave them a full review, explaining that we were from two different worlds. Unfortunately - thanks so small town syndrome again – he found out how I’d described our date and wasn’t happy about it.

The next time I saw him in the pub, he swanned over to confront me. ‘So I hear we’re from two different worlds?’ he said. ‘You think you’re better than me, don’t you?’

Of course, I apologised. But, to be honest, what I really wanted to say was: ‘Yes, absolutely.’

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