Online dating, ghosting, satanic sex parties… there’s something here for everyone.
Max came along and I thought he would be the perfect person.
By “came along” I mean we matched on Hinge. He looked kind of neanderthal like…gormless, also a bit like James Franco, but not enough to make me *catch feelings*. In the first five minutes we established two things.
1.) Screw lockdown! We wanted a cheeky kiss!
2.) What were we to do about it?
“You’re good at endings” were the last words he texted me.
He was referring to the article that I had just sent him.
Ollie and I “met” on Hinge at the beginning of lockdown. From the get go he said he was a fan of my writing, and I said I was a fan of his band. He was the “ha. Yeah.” kind of guy via text which was jarring initially, but soon we discovered we had a lot in common, which prompted him to be so bold as to say “I think we may be soul mates.” Our first “date” was watching the same film at the same time, texting throughout. I had a Perrier bottle propped up against a pillow as him, and he had a sharpie drawn face on a coke zero bottle as me. Then a few weeks later, he suggested we go on a walk. I was terrified! What if we weren’t compatible? When he suggested he drop-off a pizza at mine that Sunday I decided to feel the fear and do it anyway.
A long distance fling with a 40 year old crackhead, being savagely ghosted by a posh boy and being condemned for addressing a dwarf as a “midget”. No, this isn’t a game of would you rather, it was the state of my dating life. After a tub or two of Half Baked and Cookie Dough I felt bloated, pathetic and HSBC was on the blower telling me I had entered an “un arranged overdraft.” So I switched to smoking cigarettes and re downloaded Hinge. For the third time.
Things started off rough.
I was biting off more than I could chew- tossing likes around, (reaching the like limit) and not getting much back. Dudes liking me had answers on their profile such as “Probably won’t reply to U”, or “First round’s on me if you…just show up.” As I was about to delete the app again, I stopped in my tracks. There was a like from a director I was obsessed with. Drake’s “God’s Plan” never resonated with me more.
Needless to say I wasn’t killed in a satanic ritual. (read pt 2 here)
Instead, Black Hair and I were kissing on the stairwell outside his grandparent’s flat.
Each kiss left me dizzy and I was waiting for it to get boring but it never did, so I reached for his belt to unbuckle but he swatted me away.
At 6am, as I was leaving, he remarked:
“I have blue balls.”
On the Uber ride home I wondered if he was gay, or if he wanted to take things “slow” which is pretty much the same thing.
We’re on a cobbled, narrow street in the 6th arrondissement, and either he’s trying to race me, or lose me.
In any case, he looks like a fucking show off.
He finally clocks I’m not beside him and turns around, only to locate me four feet behind, wedged between a pram and a man with a walking stick.
This year was a pretty uneventful year in terms of men, which was great.
It meant that for the most part, I wasn’t complaining to my friends and constantly checking my phone for messages.
I did go on a date with a guy who was cute in a dishevelled way, who I had had a horrible crush on for three years.
Hi, I’m Anna!
My life – from dating to nights out to day jobs – has been a bumpy ride.
And instead of crying all day, I’ve decided to tell all.
Are you strong enough to come along?
If you are, expect short stories, interviews, photographs and more…
Never miss a thang!!
Words: Anna Sampson Make-up and visuals: Nina Pezeshkian I didn’t fancy Mike. He wasn’t my type; for one he’s blonde and though he once had a rugby player-like charm back in the day, now looked shabby and slightly unwell. His best mate is called Reuben. Reuben was a boy who was so good looking whenContinue reading “You Asked For It”
The fleece Mark was wearing was something I would’ve bought from Camden Lock market when I was 12. Its garish yellow and blue flowers felt luminescent against the grey sky that was raining, hard and even the dogs wearing strange, green glow stick-like collars, looked normal in comparison. I hated the fact I was soContinue reading “Flip of the Script”
Christmas fills me with a sense of dread. Nothing to do with the commerciality of it; I love that shit… the chai lattes, the films, the music, the ornaments. No, it’s not that. It’s the fact that for the first time of the year, my mother and father and I will be together, all coopedContinue reading “The Snow Globe”