How Much For Your Daughter?
2002-12-05 . 4:01 p.m.

Afternoon ladies and gents, todays entries' subtitle is

"Hello Mr Such'n'such, I'm the one who f*cks your daughter..."

As a man who has, in a few words, Been There Done That, I have to say the scariest moments of my life can be numbered on one hand. I have swum free with sharks off the Great Barrier Reef in Australia, I have bungy-jumped (just like sex - a moment of ecstasy with a few minutes of bouncing up and down) and I have been involved with violent altercations with nasty people.

These things however, pale into insignificance compared to the moment most men dread more than all else - Meeting the Dad. I have dated a (ahem...) significant number of women and in my time I have had to do the meeting of parents ceremony. For those of you who are of the female persuasion it goes something like this -

Pre-meeting

Spend a great deal more effort on making yourself presentable than you ever have done with the daughter. Add aftershave (the mother might be a fox) and prepare several stories about your education/background/dads car/sports depending on the interests of The Father (hereon known as "Sir").

First Impressions

Check to make sure that your fly is tightly zipped up and remind yourself that under no cicumstances are you to say to Sir "Wow, your daughter is great in the sack - who taught her?" or "Wow, your wife's pretty hot - how's about we do the threesome thing?"

(Heart rate is now currently somewhere between 140-180bpm).

Then the scary bit.

Sir is stood in the doorway awaiting you. His arms are crossed. He's big. Really big. Bigger than you and scarier than a lion in a tank. He's looking at you with a bemused smirk, looking you up and down and assessing everything about you. Whether you have the minimum requirements to be dating his daughter. Age, income, education, personal appearance. In the back of his mind however is lurking the thought "You are having carnal relations with my daughter. She may even enjoy it. This I do not like. If, under any circumstances, you act in anything less than a perfect fashion whilst within these four walls your life shall be forfeit"

The Main Course

Depending upon the locale for your meeting with Sir, you may find yourself slowly nursing a pint of weak lager in a pub or sitting down for tea with the best china and cutlery. Either way - you are guarenteed to screw up at this point. Something will happen to make you look exactly like the stupid caveman imbecile that Sir thinks you already are.

Do *not* look at the barmaid, make no reference to having male friends as this will either imply that you are a lout or that you are part of a Male Voice Choir (neither of which is a good thing...)

The End of The Evening

Depending on whether you are "allowed" to stay over or not this can create several problems - are you allowed to give your girl a kiss in front of them? With tongues? With groping? Whichever way it turns out, be glad that you haven't dated the girl whose dad was All-Torso Wrestling Champion from 1960-1970 and has recently had surgery to remove his medulla oblongata (sic? ah...fuck it).

My worst ever meeting with Sir was probably with a girl called Kate Walsh (you may see more of her in the future). Her father was one of those men who has acheived every goal he has ever set his mind to - solicitor, airline pilot, businessman, entrepreneur etc. And he was a big looking guy too. He'd have torn me to pieces if he had even an inkling of what his daughter and I got up to on prom night with the silk gloves, ball gown and stockings & suspenders. And that's just what I was wearing...

I could add more but instead I will refer you to Fletch - ask him how he felt when he first met Claire's dad.

Perhaps we can start up some sort of amazing ongoing multiple entry?