Apparently it is meant to be good luck.

Don't be yourself, be someone better...

Another tale from the dating archive. At university I met a handsome young lady at a night club establishment and arranged to meet up with her later that week.

We agreed to met at the town square centre by the large monument, a popular meeting place. I wasn't a 100% sure what she looked like having drunk heavily at the aforementioned night club, so I got there nice and early so that she would have to pick me out.

A tip for anyone out there who finds themselves in a similar situation, always get to the meeting place ridiculously early (20 minutes will do, there is no need to camp overnight) and just stare directly at the ground and wait for them to approach you. The temptation will be there to look up,

'Oh is that her', you will think and panic will set in, DON'T LOOK UP!

So I was there early and staring intently at my shoes. For those of you that have read my flip flop related dating post, please note that I was wearing shoes to this date - this is standard practice. It was 7:30, the arranged meeting time, when all of a sudden a pigeon with sniper like accuracy shat furiously, leaving a streaked white terd down my jeans.

Decision Time, do I leave the agreed meeting place at the agreed meeting time to attend to my garment issue and risk antagonising the potential Mrs.Cornford, or do I stick put with shitty jeans.

I decided to attend to the jeans and dived into a near by Wetherspoons. Having doused my jeans in water, I had to perform hand stand acrobatics to waft them under the hand dryer - much to the amusement/bemusement of Wetherspoon patrons.

Luckily, my date arrived late so the original plan was back on. When she did arrive my jeans were sans shit, but they were evidently wet below the groin area. I didn't bring this up, she didn't bring it up and amazingly in this instance there was a second date.