Love in a damp climate: Endless rain made my date a complete washout

I blame the movies for our ill-founded belief that rain is romantic – sexy, even. Every rom-com or tragic love story seems to feature a kiss so passionate that no amount of bad weather can tear the lovers apart. It's Breakfast at Tiffany’s as Audrey Hepburn searches for her cat, it's A Cinderella Story as Chad Michael Murray chooses the girl over a football scholarship, and, of course, it's Wuthering Heights with Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi getting soaked in Yorkshire.

You would think it would be almost ideal that this year, in our lead-up to Valentine’s Day, we have experienced nothing but rain, the most romantic of all movie weather. Except movies aren’t real. In reality, wind makes your hair stick to your lip gloss, the cold demands so many layers that even just the thought of taking them off becomes intolerable, and the rain is the antithesis of romance. Nothing exemplified this more than my most disastrous date of 2025.

I had a date planned with a man who was as hip and stylish as the restaurant where I was meeting him. My outfit had been planned for a week and was lying on my bed while I got ready. I thought I was about to have the perfect date, and one which hopefully would be leading to many, many more. Unfortunately, there was something in the air set on sabotaging any romance, and that something was rain.

To start with, getting there was nothing short of hideous. The restaurant was just close enough to make public transport unnecessary, but long enough to ensure that any effort that had previously been put into my appearance was quickly rendered pointless. Despite having an umbrella, I still managed to arrive looking more wet cat than Audrey Hepburn. My hair was dripping down my face, and thus, my makeup. I had also rather overambitiously whacked on a bit of fake tan, the melting results of which could only be solved with a quick dash into the nearest pub to try and salvage what remained of my complexion.

I was met by my very wet date with an awkwardly damp hug, closely followed by an angry rant about his lack of an umbrella and the restaurant's lack of seating. Apparently, the only ones available were in the gazebo outside, which, according to my date, was completely unsuitable for the current climate. I attempted to make a joke of the whole thing so we might at least laugh our way through a hilariously awful situation. It was then that I discovered that my date did not share my humour, or any humour at all.

The evening continued in this fashion. Rain was coming at us horizontally, made worse by regular splashing from cars passing by. Every time the waiter returned, my date would inquire about tables indoors and every time he would be fobbed off, only making him angrier. My attempts at lightening up the mood with humour became all the more embarrassing. At one point, my suggestion that we might as well just share the same seat was met by silence.

At the end of the evening, we went our separate ways, skipping both dessert and any chance of a “romantic” kiss in the rain. To top everything off, after saying goodbye, I discovered that someone had stolen my umbrella. On my miserable walk home, I concluded that my date must have taken it, and I’ve kept to that story ever since.

In the hopes of avoiding another romantic washout, I’ll be staying home cosy and dry this Valentine’s Day, and watching a film set somewhere warm and with absolutely no rainfall of any kind.