…That was wildly inappropriate…
Quick warning, there are quite a few pseudonyms in this post. If you are new to my blog and want to know more about these people, click their name and get stuck in a ceaseless Wikipedia-like cycle of opening new tabs… but with more dicks and alcohol…
Hello dear readers! Sorry I’m two days late this week but honesty nothing much has happened, that is until last night… Usually I get my dating research done on the weekend and spend the week organising dates for the next post. Last weekend I got caught up instead helping Whorey Spelling get laid (I’m the Mother Teresa of partying, I help other people get some whilst I slowly fossilise.) In classic Sam fashion, I offered to take any competition away for a smoke so that Whorey could flirt with the guys at our table in peace, I’m that bloody nice. It was all for naught in the end, the object of Whoreys affections scampered into the night significantly drunker but with his dignity intact (that sounded nowhere near as Victorian in my head…)
I spent most of my time with, we’ll call him…Koda, which is also a terrible alias… why do I find names so hard? Anyway Koda is very sweet, the same age as me and also looking for love. We’re not each others type which means we’ll be married next winter, expect your invitations in the spring. He’s one of my favourite people to go out with, there’s never any drama, he loves a gossip and will always dance (as I said, invitations in the spring, in lieu of traditional wedding gifts please bring cigarettes and vodka).
Koda rather smartly opted to leave at one thirty which sounded fab. Usually I stay till the bitter end to make sure Whorey is okay, but also because I live for bad pop music and cheap drinks… Alas Whorey’s intended vanished (how did I slide back into Victorian?) and I stayed till three as moral and liver support. In an unfortunate turn of events, this meant I ended up walking home with Hank. A quick reminder for newbies, Hank is a guy I ‘flirted with’ (gave a blowjob) which I’m in the process of cutting out of my life like a particularly unattractive mole… Classy… We ended up chatting for half an hour and I came home to a pointed message about how I’m ignoring him, which was true. Apparently we don’t ‘talk’ anymore, we do its just now I’m not trashed enough to make out with him after. In sheer annoyance at his coyness I wrote back:
“Are you asking if I’m interested in you?”
I don’t have time for his… ‘flirting’ at this point, I want to pull the plaster off quickly so I don’t keep reading his messages like a passive aggressive Santa. We’re arranged to go for drinks at some point but tonight I plan to make out with someone to cowardly avoid hurting his feelings directly (as I’ve said time and again, not a role model).
Top Tip 201: Honesty is for idiots and Catholics…
This brings me to the second unrequited love of the week, I received my first love letter in ages last night… Now me and my family meet up once a week for… sewing lessons (this is obviously a lie, but for the sake of privacy). Now there’s also a few people who are part of our sewing circle that have become family friends, and they are all over forty (you can see where this is going…) There is one person in the group we’ll call, Fishy, mostly because they always seem to have fish and chips on them, regardless of distance to the sea or even a kitchen. Now I never suspected Fishy of harbouring any emotions towards me, we all just call him the friendly giant. He is at least six feet tall, quite over weight and seems to suffer some learning deficiency, which could be said about a lot of the guys I’ve slept with recently (I have taste, its just an acquired one…)
Now Fishy has always been very sweet to me and my family, it bears repeating that whenever I see him it’s with my mum who is the same age. I’ve never taken too much notice of him otherwise, much like the floss in my bathroom, I’m aware it exists but I’ve never actually touched it.
Top Tip #161: Don’t listen to me kids, flossing is important.
The last two weeks I’ve had to skip sewing, Whorey had made arrangements to meet our future husbands and cross-stitch can wait for when I not crushingly single. I’m guessing this is why Fishy decided to post a letter through my door. The page itself is simultaneously sweet and tremendously creepy at the same time, like children in any horror movie ever.
Reading it was an emotional tight-rope act between “aww!” and “uhhh…”
- “I would like to get to know you, but if it doesn’t work out then I have been honest.” -Aww!
- “I don’t expect sex, but if it happens it happens.” -uhhh…
- “I know I’m not the best looking guy but my heart is in the right place.” -Aww! (side note, everyone’s is unless your tragically sick, I hate that expression)
- “If that seems too weird than think of me as a friend with benefits.” -uhhh…
It’s just so goddamn awkward guys! He’s best friends with my mum, is over forty, special needs and he wasn’t exaggerating about his looks… Its very flattering to be called sexy but not by someone almost double your age and part of a friend group which includes your family. I can’t ignore it, I’ll never get to sew again, and I really love sewing guys (I’ll give you a clue, the ‘sewing circle’ involves alcohol).
The first thing I did was tell my family, my mum laughed at me down the phone for ten minutes straight. I tried my sisters but had a similar response, my family drink misery like they drink wine, intravenously.
Top Tip #124: Be adopted by a supportive family that won’t laugh you out of town…
I’ve opted to write him a letter back, it lets him down sweetly and is full of lies. People always harp on about honesty and how its the best policy, but these people never seem to be on the receiving end of special needs letters or bitchy text messages. I think lying is much better if it saves someones emotions being torn to pieces by the truth. I don’t want to say “I’m sorry I lead you on Hank, I was lonely and you had free vodka!” Much like I don’t want to tell Fishy that a sweet personality doesn’t cut it when its wrapped up in that body. I’m a shallow person sometimes, but in an age where relationships require frequent sex (maybe I am Victorian…) its better to be shallow and have a good sex-life than a long lasting relationship strangled (ironically) by a lack of contact.
Anyway, the letter has been sent, we’ll see next week at sewing how it goes down. In other news I have been courting a man online, he’s not my type but after this week I’m willing to go on any date that doesn’t require a carers supervision. I’ll have updates on that for you next week (hopefully) and I promise to be on time! I hope Fishy and I can stay friends, he is genuinely lovely but I’m carrying far too much baggage to add “specials needs older boyfriend” on top of it.
Cigarettes: Guess, just try and guess how many I smoked after the letter.
Diet: I’ve been eating diet sweeties that give me crippling stomach cramps if I eat more than three, so I’m looking skinny! (I am not a doctor or even trusted around scissors, don’t take this as dietary advice)
Dates: One! With an average guy and we’re going to see an average movie, this could be the best one this year guys!
Emotional State: Vodka is state, well I’m a state around vodka, its been a trying week guys let me spiral a smidge…