1 She’s late and makes you wait at least an hour, updating you with smss about her state of undress, levels of stress, what a day she’s had while you wait patiently… resisting a third beer. “lolz! sorreeee!!!! 😉 xoxoxo”.
Verdict: tardiness=retardiness.

2 She makes a point of not allowing any manners or basic chivalry to take place. You open the car door, she asks if you think she can’t do it herself. Refers to womankind in place of mankind.
Verdict: you’re all for equality, but hang around only if you’d back yourself in a Greco-Roman wrestling bout with Germaine Greer.

3 Your ill-advised opening line is “hello sugartits!” and then you remember that she wasn’t the one girl in the club who found that funny when you met. explaining yourself is futile.
Verdict: tequila-induced amnesia on your part and sense of humour failure on hers. You, as a collective, are doomed.

4 You greet her with a hug and a kiss. The hug turns into a fatherly one, brief and with three taps on the back, as if she just won the school eisteddfod. The kiss is awkward, and you deliberate between mouth or cheek, but land up on her nostril.
Verdict: it’s early jitters. Indulge in some small talk, have a few toots and you’ll be lunging like it’s The Baron at closing time.

5 She goes to the loo. half an hour later you find her doing body shots with the touring Waratahs front row. Claims she’s a fan of their work fighting the Japanese fishing fleets.
Verdict: doesn’t follow rugby; hasn’t heard of national pride; may have a drinking problem.

6 She happily and consistently halts conversation to answer her phone, respond to smss and send emails.
Verdict: she’s rude. A date is time put aside to spend with someone else. Her friends, family and the rest of her life can wait a few hours.

7 You’ve re-enacted Monty Python, Eddie Izzard, Kurt Schoonraad, shoved breadsticks up your nose and even resorted to Leon Schuster doing Naas Botha, but she has barely broken a smile. Crickets keep breaking into song.
Verdict: she has no sense of humour or alternatively, her sense of humour does not match yours in the slightest. Ask for the bill… (and try dating a Rhodes girl).

8 You agreed to go out for dinner but she says she ate some lettuce and a radish earlier and is as stuffed as her favourite fluffy toy. Proceeds to tell you about Mr. Binky, who rules over her bed and her scatter cushions.
Verdict: flakiness, possible eating disorder and Alice-In-Wonderland complex (think Kathy Bates in Misery meets Amelie). It’s a bad start. Run.

9 When answering a call, she either starts speaking in another language that you don’t know, or starts spouting code words like, “I repeat, code red Samantha. This is not a drill.”
Verdict: she’s just not that into you.

10 She says, “oh…” (tone fading with disappointment)… “you look so… different to what I imagined.”
Verdict: pot-kettle-black syndrome. You may not be Fabio, but then again her pic looked like it was taken in high school. And that fever blister was not listed on Facebook along with her pets and religious views.

11 She leaves with the Waratahs and goes to their hotel. Keeps calling Tatafu Polotanau “Tofu Polenta.” Gets you an autograph.
Verdict: she’s a groupie. Probably seen more knobs than a locksmith.

12 Your first kiss. Her soft lip-glossed lips open ever so gently, her tongue flits lightly over your mouth, slowly at first then hungrily as you pull her closer. Her hot, fit body tight against yours. Then… it ends. Messily. In your pants.
Verdict: it’s been a while. Next time (probably not with her)watch There’s Something About Mary and use Woogie’s advice.