by JULIET WATERS

I remember one Valentine's Day. I was 20. He was 22. We went to a movie, and then out for a drink where he bought me a flower from one of those women who trawl bars for this purpose. It was sweet because this was way out of character for him, but by the end of the evening I could see it just wasn't going to happen. A disappointment, particularly because until the "date" we'd been sleeping together for about four years. Fortunately, that part of our relationship was salvageable for at least another few years until eventually we became lifelong friends.

Basically, my generation didn't date. We drank. When I read a book like Playing With Matches: Misadventures in Dating by Amy Cameron I think perhaps we were wiser than I give us credit for. Still, it's true that bad dates often make good stories.

Inevitably there will be those heckling types who say that high-level government corruption makes a better story. Cameron is the daughter of Stevie Cameron, best known for On the Take: Crime, Corruption & Greed in the Mulroney years. And a book about bad dates will also seem lightweight compared to the book her mother is currently working on, The Pig Farm, about Robert Pickton, currently on trial as Canada's most prolific serial killer.

Also, bad dates seems like a great subject for a dinner among girlfriends, but a book? Who is this reader who's going to sit down, alone, and read an entire book of bad date stories? Ah, but just as love appears in unexpected places, so it is that we often find wisdom and entertainment in unexpected books. Playing With Matches is actually a weirdly enjoyable read.

Cameron has amassed these stories from life experience, e-mail interviews and a series of what she described as Bad Date Dinners, which she hosted in the winter of 2004. "At the end of every evening, people walked away with new friendships, and cheeks stained with tears of laughter." This does suggest that if more people went on Bad Date Dinners, instead of dates, there wouldn't be so many lonely people, but then dating would die out entirely and here's what we'd miss.

A woman nearly killed by a kiss from a date who'd grabbed some peanuts just before going out the door (the woman had a serious allergy). A story about a woman who borrows her mother's coat to go on an important date, and at the crucial moment where it looks like the first kiss might happen, reaches into her pocket meaning to pull out keys, but pulls out false teeth. Hot sex with a young Mexican sabotaged by a room full of life-sized KISS posters, and a tattoo of the entire band across his back. Hot sex made brutally memorable by a ruptured frenulum, which, if you're not up on your sex education, is the membrane that attaches the foreskin to the glans and shaft of the penis, which can pour out a surprising amount of blood. A drag, particularly if your date still lives with his parents and has to be driven to emergency.

And, finally, hot sex ruined the next morning by a mother, who when she's not investigating Canadian prime ministers and serial killers, is grilling her daughters about their dates. This is why, after an unexpectedly successful date, her daughter is lying in bed with a guy listening to the following answering machine message: "Hi honey... calling to see how your big date went last night. Hope you gave him a chance. Just because he's short doesn't mean he's not Mr. Right now does it? Now. What did you wear? Please don't say you wore something black - sweetie, colours really become you! And thank God for control top. I'm sure you're out for a run, but call me the minute you get back and we can chat about Matthew. Love you. Bye. Kiss, kiss."

Playing with Matches by Amy Cameron,
Anchor Canada, pb, 230pp, $19.95