It all seemed so perfect at the start. He was tall and charming — an Irish student abroad. I was 20, and he ‘liked’ me on a dating app, and sent me a couple of flirty messages.A date was arranged.But then he arrived, straggly-haired in a moth-eaten fleece. Drinks — which he refused to pay for — proved an insufficient social lubricant as he offered monosyllabic answers to my increasingly desperate questioning.
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