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!!
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It was during a choir trip in Portugal with school that I fancied a girl for the first time. Her name was Rachel and was two years below me which felt slightly creepy and I snuck in alcohol for us all in the hopes of getting closer but all that amounted to was a bollockingContinue reading “Opening A New Door”
It was a hot summers evening along Portobello Road and I was in the hair salon. I was fretting about switching up my signature iced-blonde look for a more natural one and I could feel pools of sweat forming as I sat on that leather chair in my Adidas shorts. I was so paranoid thatContinue reading “The Crossed Line (Part 1)”