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It has been a while since I had been on a real "date". Going out and chatting to people at clubs and pubs doesn't really count because it's just way too easy to walk away when they get boring. I decided after being single for almost two months to put myself back out there and take the plunge.

It's not like I have really been out of practice — my last relationship was on and off for about a year so it's not like I had forgotten what it was like to talk to the opposite sex.

I'm the type of person who likes meeting people, I really do. I love hearing people's stories and finding out what makes them tick. The problem is, I am extremely shy when first meeting someone, which is probably why I am also attracted to the extroverts who can take over the conversation a bit.

Anyway, I rushed home after work to get changed and shave. It's been a while since I've done that — I usually go for days before I rummage around in the cupboard for my blunt razor. I even had a shower, twice in one week... what a treat.

We were all set to meet each other at the restaurant, until I got a phone call from her.

My cynical mind immediately set in and I thought this was a last-minute cancellation. It was the opposite — she needed a lift so I had to drive past her place and pick her up.

Now I not only had to keep up with conversation, I also had to drive well - and preferably clean the car before I left. It took me about ten minutes and at least three garbage bags to clean out the car — it was quite a surprise to see the passenger seat again.

I realised that as a man it is all about impressions, especially these days. I have been tainted by living in this city and felt the need to explain my bashed-up car that I am borrowing, while my usual car — with aircon — is still being repaired by a dodgy panelbeater.

But what is it about impressing the opposite sex? I love watching guys in clubs, taking out the wads of R50 notes and splashing out on drinks.

I can just imagine the thoughts going on in the girls' minds — and I'm sure they aren't thinking that Mr Right has suddenly walked into the room.

I was really nervous on the way to her house, but kept my composure. I did the whole gentleman thing, opened the car door for her, and I even drove relatively well, just under the speed limit in fact.

Once there, I remembered to pour her drink for her, light her cigarette and not chew with my mouth open and she seemed really impressed.

We even swapped shirts. Yes, swapped shirts. She dared me, what can I say? So I sat in the middle of a crowded restaurant wearing a girls shirt for half an hour — who said I'm not a metrosexual male?

I got over my shyness quickly enough to have a decent conversation. It's amazing how much two people who have no links at all can have a lot in common.

I've always believed it's about having the same kind of sense of humour to be honest, which, despite being a rarity for me, I think I still impressed on that front.

Maybe not going overboard is the key, but a little bit of manners and chivalry (and a bit of daring) can probably go a long way.