Date-Disaster-HELP!

OK,… I should have listened to an email I got recently after writing about online dating, which said “just be sure you have an exit strategy”. Well, but somehow I thought that obviously does not apply to real-world dating, and … I was wrong! Very wrong.
Today I had dinner with a guy I recently met at a friends party. At the time we both did not have much time to speak to each other, though I really liked his looks and he seemed nice – so we exchanged numbers on the way home. A day later he texted me and we agreed to meet today… And that was where the disaster started.
We met in a restaurant in Charlotte Street (he arranged it), and it all seemed really nice for the first half hour. Great place, the guy is cute, and yes, for half an hour he seemed nice. But then somehow he decided that I could be his personal therapist/psychoanalyst/councilor for the evening. What a nightmare! I mean there is nothing wrong with saying some things – but giving me a run down of every (sexual and other) phobia, every funny thought, dream and whatever else sprang to his mind rounded of with a good lecture on how he was psychic and how difficult that made his life (“I can see my future in your aura!”?!) – is just a bit too much.
While at first it seemed kind of funny – after about an hour of detailed descriptions why he would never sleep with anyone without wearing at least two condoms (“I feel the holes in them”), and other details which I really don’t want to repeat (but certainly did not make feel like trying anything with him!), I definitely started to loose the will to live.
And just as I thought it could not get any worse (and after I steadfastly refused any desert, coffee or anything else to follow) he started to tell me in minute detail why he was seeing a professional therapist because of his previous relationship problems. Unfortunately, I did not stop him from ordering a desert and coffee for himself (which I should have done!) and I have now learned that it is possible to spend at least three times as much time on a desert than on a main course.
Finally I maged to get out of the restaurant after we payed the bill (double dutch!)..or more precisely: the last waiter was eager to go home, and asked us to pay (dear waiter: I love you!)… And, just five minutes later I got a text from him saying how much we connected and asking me if I would like t see him tomorrow (NO!). Just amazing how sometimes psychic powers seem to be quite unreliable…!
From the safe distance of my flat, the entire evening seems like a (pretty bad?) sitcom, though this evening (somewhere between him explaining me his views on gay relationships and his phobia of liquids or so) I was seriously wondering if I should not simply give up dating (I tend to like safe options, unless they involve two condoms during oral sex).
In short: It doesn’t matter how cute the guy, I have learned my lesson. Next time I shall have an exit strategy. And dinner dates are ok for a second date – but first dates are strictly a drink only (though I am sure we can always make that a very long drink for the right person!).