Artist on front: Sophie La Berre ‘High Heels’
“I’m on a roll and it’s time to go solo!
Rollin in my 5 0…
With my ragtop down so my hair can blow.
The girlies on standby…
Waving just to say hi…
Did you stop?? No, I just drove by…
Kept on pursuing to the next stop…
I busted a left and I’m heading to the next block…
That block was dead” Vanilla Ice
For the sake of this dating diary I’m going to talk about the subject of ‘floaters’… we all know the type.. he never really asks you out – he just floats…in the social stratosphere – sending a text/whatsapp/fb message occasionally ‘hey sexy!’… lacking in cyberethics… he ‘likes’ every ladies picture he sees… just to see what he can get his ‘hands’ on… yep girls we all know the type right? (And I’m interested – do guys have floaters too from the opposite sex?).
So…he’ll occasionally send you a message telling you that you look sexy and hot in your latest facebook picture… and you resist saying… “yep I know and in the words of MC Hammer “you can’t touch this..” because I’m “Ice Ice Baby”… “
Because you don’t want to appear arrogant…realising that there’s a fine line between this fashionable ‘I love myself’ ‘self love’ chat of recent years and er… arrogance. So you just say.. ‘thanks’.
“Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting” William Shakespeare, Henry V.
So a few weeks back I had a whatsapp message from an ole floater I know.
“Hey sexy! Fancy coming over to mine today”.
Maybe he wants to cook me dinner or something? I think..
“What for?” I reply. A few minutes trot by as I daydream of a nice Sunday roast with glazed parsnips and…
“A cuddle.. its freezing here”. Nice way to put it I guess.
“Ok what’s your address?” I ask. Which he promptly sends over..
“Ok I’ll be about an hour…am on my way!” I enthuse… turning back to my never ending washing up. I should start wearing rubber gloves I start to ponder. Or get a dishwasher.. you know hands can reveal a ladies age?
Half an hour passes and I receive another message… “Where are you?” (I’m in a hot bath by now but I don’t tell him that) “I’ve just got to your station!” I reply.
“Actually I have to go out in an hour…” he says “You should……….. turn back!” he adds.
I lie back in the relaxing hot bath I’ve run myself and think. WTF..Omg. What if I was actually there! How awful would that have been!
I quickly google his address and find a picture online of his local tube station and send it to him.
“Too late! LOOK! I’m here! At your station! Come meet me!” I urge…
“Its too cold…hop on the bus to mine.” he replies. Tsk… I reflect.. this would be like the worst booty call ever I think to myself.
“No come meet me.” I answer…”I’ve come all this way!” trying at least to get him to leave his house.
Ten minutes later I receive another message… “where are you?” he asks.
“I’ve gone home…” I reply. With a sad smiley face 😉
Half an hour later my phone buzzes again… “Well done..!! I just found the photo of the tube stop you sent me on google!”
“Haha…” I reply… “bloody good job I didn’t come though isn’t it!”.
*Both parties leave the conversation with a touch of amusement. One realising that if he should ever booty call a girl to his house he risks her showing up and he should at least have the balls (and respect) to follow that through…and maybe add some extras in? The other happy that she never left the warm comfort of her reliable Molton Brown infused bubble bath…
Girls just wanna have fun.. but I think the reality of that story would not have been very fun.. oh Deary me..
‘Plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.” Veronica A. Shoffstall
Happy New Year – be safe, have fun and happy dating! Please send your dating submissions in – anonymous or whatever – will aim to post 🙂
*Luv* Becki Bx