FYI – “Dating” sites don’t approve of dolling out price lists for sex. Theoretical or not.

It’s our unconscious belief that, if we ignore something, it no longer exists. That, if we don’t open that bill – it no longer needs paying, if we refuse to get tested – we’re clean from STI’s and then there is the delusion that if we ignore our resources we can still compete in life. The primary resource I was ignoring was my missing iPhone. The delusion was that my social, dating and sex lives would still thrive without it. Without an iPhone I may as well live in a nunnery. And that’s not just because I was missing out on the extremely rare Grindr user that didn’t look like roadkill or want to lick my feet while I tied him up. I was missing out on instant social networking, flirting, ‘like’ing, commenting, tweeting, emails, whatsapp, and with a newly limited phonebook – texting/sexting. All of my mediums for maintaining contact with boys had suddenly disappeared and I’d found myself at the dreaded lose end of; talking to men in real life.

Well, that, and the even more dreaded, (and outdated) online dating/cruising. LATER. Having to predict if you’re going to be horny three days later just so you can exchange enough messages in time. Which was totally null anyway seen as after three days back on Fitlads they blocked my account for being a prostitute. All I did was send over some prices via a private message just to see how much I was worth, and then I can’t log in. What an invasion of privacy. Since when was it a crime to get a price quote for a shag. Prejudice pricks.
So with no luck on even the marginally better gay networking site, I couldn’t even be arsed with Gaydar, Manhunt, LadsLads, Cupid, etc, etc. I wasn’t a middle aged single mum looking for love and I wasn’t highly sexed or high enough for the others. Real world it was then.

To be honest, there wasn’t much to report, other than where being in a situation where if you want to get a man you actually have to talk to him, is scary. But after a few Essex banters, one intimidating pie and an awkward dancing situation, I was getting better. I learned that men, even when dressed as women, can make me nervous, acting like you’re from TOWIE  isn’t always a bad thing and that when a Muscle Mary dances on over – freezing up and doing the ketamine robot in the opposite direction isn’t a good flirting technique.

Although perhaps the most successful encounter wasn’t any of those semi-ego boosting exchanges, but the triumph over someone from the past. You could get hit on by the hottest guy in the club, but NOTHING makes you feel hotter than bumping into the guy you used to embarrassingly crush on – while your four shades more tanned, he has four extra chins. How the tables have turned from you standing looking at him like (and probably dressed as) a lovesick school boy while he nodded his head, knowing full well the cards, and my underwear, were on the table. Now she’s salivating all over my brand new Adidas hi tops.

“Yeah that’s right bitch…” *Nods head while looking around the room*

Girl, I don’t even need to courtesy pie her, she’s fat so this smile is ALL REAL. For every inch her eyes bulged out at how I’ve transformed, my cheshire grin spread a little bit further.
So if you need a little ego-boost, approaching men you fancy can do you wonders – although nothing like being approached by one you don’t anymore. Talking to men you’ve just met can be daunting, but talking to ones you’ve known much longer (when you’re looking damn fierce) is a fucking breeze.