‘Never smile at a crocodile’ so the old song advises.

I think that’s a smidge harsh, wouldn’t you say?

Poor old Mr. Croc, there he is, sitting on his rock (or whatever those fellas use for armchairs), having just noshed away on an antelope’s flank, daydreaming about how lovely it would be to have a chum to chat to, then suddenly he spies you and shows you his gnashers in a gesture of pure friendship. And what do you do, you miserable sod, you recall the song and offer up your steeliest stare, giving him not even so much as a glimpse of your pearlies. Not really very nice, is it.

That’s the problem with believing stereotypes. You close yourself off to all manner of potentially delicious scenarios. Had you given said crocodile a grin you may have found him to be a perfectly palatable chap … although it is also the case that you may have become the palatable one…along with a side of chips and a mayo dip. The point is however, that now you’ll never know.

I believe firmly in chucking expectations and assumptions atop the compost heap along with the rest of the dung and using a freshly opened brain-cell in every situation.

…Perhaps you think you don’t fancy men who are shorter than you. So you turn down a date with a chap half-an-inch under your lolloping stature whom otherwise happens to be downright perfect for you.

Maybe last time you went out with a policeman your brain slowed to a complete halt through sheer boredom, so now the mere site of a man with a truncheon sees you leaping into the nearest wheelie-bin for cover.

Perhaps you’ve heard that most American chaps enjoy doing the hokey-cokey with the lights off, yet you very much enjoy the visual spectacle of naked flesh in full rumpus, so you’ve never looked twice at our Yankee chums…

What a waste. The sensible bit of your bonce tells you that each and every person is a completely different fish – irrespective of job, nationality, height or any other such thing – but the silly bit shouts at you to run screaming into the night whenever you come across anyone you aren’t 100% certain about.

Now I’m not saying that you should date any old idiot, I’m just saying that generalizing likes and dislikes across great swathes of people is as daft as traveling across the Gobi desert on the back of a leaping toad. Treat every dude or dudelette as a totally new breed and you may uncover a nugget of a person that you could end up flipping buttock-over-boobs for. Doesn’t matter if that person is a 7-foot tall fire-eater from darkest Siberia, the point is they are the right person for you.

So bugger off now and get smiling at as many crocodiles as you can – behind those big scary teeth there might be a 7-foot fire-eater, just for you!

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