I thought taking risks was counter-productive cuz it felt counter-intuitive & was as good as auditioning for MasterChef when all you know how to cook is meth. But that’s the fear talking & you never know when a background in ‘chemical engineering’ might help you score big on the macaroon challenge.
I realised this after a decade of being out of the game & finally decided to start dating again & no that wasn’t a typo. I. Was. Single. For. Ten. Whole. Years.
During my sexual exile, I didn’t sleep with, nor flirt with, wink at, smile for, poke, tag, kiss, miss, dismiss, or even so much as fondle another human being. Not one mother-duffing person. Plus I'm saving the obligatory mammogram for menopause, so I had to think fast.
It took some very good friends, a therapist & a gaggle of self-SOS books to realise my ducks would never come in a row & if I waited till that happened I’d eventually be dating a necrophiliac.
I got online, signed up to the sites of dating & following some rustic rookie attempts at virtual conversing, I was sent a winky face accompanied by some pixilated flowers that smelled like my keyboard. I referred to the troubleshooting section & returned a smile; she replied with another unfrown & the ‘fibre optic cable courtship’ began. I was going to get laid bitcheeeees!
To the twittermobile... "Met possible soulm8 last nite @lycheelounge – Can’t wait 2 get joint private health cover. Bugger wedding bells this is forever #littlespoon"
The only person I wanted to wake up to the next morning however, was my therapist... who's going to need therapy once I tell her that.
Maybe I should just date a Roller-coaster like Amy Wolfe in the U.S. Although every time she takes a couple pic it's gonna look like a selfie. #GoogleIt #YouMayNowRideTheBride #Idooooooooo