Dating
There are two kinds of people who date.
The Cat or the Fish.
I
am of course the fish.
The Cat in my mind is 9/10 of my friends. They of course turn up
immaculate, they've prepped preened, and they look good without an overworked
appearance. Now I'm not saying they are sly, but they have done their homework,
age, job, general back ground check. No 80 year old flashers for these guys,
because FACT, they are clever. The date goes flawlessly (prrrfect), but even if
it hadn't, this wouldn't affect them, exit strategy would already be planned
and down to a fine finesse. The end of the date, a subtle kiss, not giving too
much away, but enough to leave that date wanting more.
The fish… oh. god .the .fish. You are a flake. You flop around
not knowing whether to go or not. The true dilemma; will they like you in real
life,because let’s face it, your tinder /grinder/POF pictures are a little
over generous and you've made yourself sound like a vixen in your brief (yet exciting) pre
date conversations. You arrive; the excess sweat starts to occur, the clammy
hands, upper lip THE ARMPITS. Then you sit, waiting, eyes bulging, drink
far too much for a first date, decide that having a snog and fondle is never a
bad thing (because yes it’s been that long), and the next thing you know your
waking up, its 7am, you have work, you’re not in your own house/bed and something that resembles a deformed version of wolverine lying beside you.
Just me???
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