He began to amble about his amazing qualities (Picture: Getty Images)

‘I’m so good-looking, in fact, probably the best-looking man you’ll date, and I’m funny, charming, successful, intelligent, and a really interesting person.’

He continued, while squeezing onto the couch next to me rather than sitting in the seat across the table: ‘You’re so lucky to be on this date with me’.

Thankfully I didn’t have any drink left to spit out, so I let out a huge chuckle. His face, however, remained serious.

‘Why are you laughing?’

I’d thought he was joking – that perhaps he had a dry, witty sense of humour like mine.

‘I’m serious. Don’t you think this is the best date you’ve been on?’

He wasn’t kidding.

And I couldn’t believe it.

I came across Ben*, 32, on the apps. He had dark spiky hair, sparkly eyes and a wicked sense of humour. At least, that’s what his profile promised.

We arranged to meet at a bar in Edinburgh’s Old Town, away from the tourist throng, at 7.30pm.

As I waited by the bar, drink in hand, one eye on the door for my date, a gangly, awkward man sidled up to me.

‘Paula!’ he exclaimed.

His breath smelled of cheese and garlic. Unsure how this strange man – who, I had to admit, bore an uncanny resemblance to Mr Bean – knew my name, I had no idea.

‘Umm. Yes?’

Surely this couldn’t be my date? I studied him closely, looking for any hint of the attractive, charming man from the profile, but couldn’t see it.

‘You look exactly like your photo. Shall we?’ He gestured to a sofa, ordering himself a drink and failing to notice my empty one.

Tall, with the ‘I’ve not yet grown into my body’ clumsiness of a prepubescent boy, greasy slicked back hair, and a manic grin, which he was currently pointing in my direction, he bore zero resemblance to his single profile picture.

Well, perhaps he was funny and interesting?

I was proved wrong when he began to amble about his amazing qualities.

I quickly made my excuses to pop to the loo and spent as much time as possible in there, hoping he’d get bored and leave.

On my return, I saw him chatting with the pretty, petite blonde bar girl and my heart soared. Had they’d hit it off so I could leave?

As I approached the bar, she caught my eye with a silent plea for help.

I struggled and failed to keep a straight face

‘So, as I was saying, anybody would be lucky to have me, so I’ve no idea why I’m single…’ my date droned on.

‘I’m really, really attractive, like a 12 out of 10, and combined with my charm, wit, amazing personality and success, I don’t know why I don’t have a girlfriend, or a wife yet! Maybe this one will be the one,’ he joked, playfully elbowing me as I sidled up beside him.

‘To be honest, though, any woman would be lucky to have me. I bet you’d love to go on a date with me – in your dreams!’

I struggled and failed to keep a straight face.

‘I’ll grab us some more drinks,’ I said as the bar girl shot me a grateful, silent thank you. Once he’d headed back to the table and was out of earshot, I added, ‘a tequila shot, please.’

As I downed my Dutch courage, two other members of the bar staff approached.

‘I can’t believe that guy! Are you OK? We can help you invent some kind of emergency if you need to escape.’

Grateful for the help, I declined and said I was about to leave, but back in our seats as the tale of Ben’s life continued, I wondered if I should have accepted the offer.

‘So, I mean, I can see why you’re single – you’re quite pretty but more in a sort of averagely attractive way, you know? My mum always says she can never understand why I haven’t been snapped up. A ridiculously handsome man like myself stands out a mile in a crowd and my dates always have the best time. Maybe women feel intimidated by my looks and charm?’

I didn’t have the heart for an in-person rejection (Picture: Paula Beaton)

Yes… that must be it.

‘Mm.. uh-huh.’ I made all the right noises while drifting off mentally to a less terrifying place, one where seemingly handsome men didn’t turn out to look like Rowan Atkinson, with an ego that put Hollywood A-listers to shame.

After an hour of listening to him droning on about his magnetism, good looks and successful career working in a call centre, I was done. It was 8.30pm. I surreptitiously fired off a text for help to a friend.

My phone rang.

‘What’s that? The cat is throwing up everywhere and you’re taking her to the emergency vet? I’ll be right there’

Ben seemed unperturbed, the smug look on his face showing that he counted our date a success. He offered to walk me to the station.

The 15-minute walk back to Edinburgh Waverley had never felt so long. Before I could run for my train, Ben lunged at me in an attempt for a goodnight kiss, which I gracefully dodged and turned into an awkward hug.

‘Date two, tomorrow?’

‘Ohh, I’m busy tomorrow, but we’ll set something up soon.’ I didn’t have the heart for an in-person rejection of Edinburgh’s most delusional eligible bachelor.

‘Amazing. Tell all your friends you’ve met the one, and how handsome he was.’

The next day, I fired off a WhatsApp message, the go-to method of rejection for cowardly daters everywhere.

‘Hey Ben, last night was fun, but I didn’t feel we had chemistry. Happy to stay friends and grab coffee sometime.’

I didn’t expect the reply I got. I was making the biggest mistake of my life, apparently — he was the peak experience, the best I would ever have.

‘It’s all downhill from here, Paula,’ he signed off.

I stifled a chuckle.

Before I blocked him, I fired off a response. ‘Ben, thanks for our date. However, I think I’m too attractive, successful, charming, and funny for you. I’m the best you’ll never have.’

It was two months before I’d brave another online date.

*Name changed

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When I let him down gently he said I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.