You’re just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
And I wish I was special
You’re so fuckin’ special
I want you to notice
When I’m not around
You’re so fuckin’ special
I wish I was special
Well it’s terribly uncouth to write, as a lady about a one night stand. As you can see from most of these dating diaries – one does not talk about that stuff that happens down there! But if that Lena Dunham can do it.. perhaps us Brits need to catch up with our openness.
And whilst not a prude – one wouldn’t want to be perceived as a ‘slut’, ‘slag’ or erm. Easy. A whore. A tart. A hoochie. A scarlet woman. Or indeed a floozie. Nor a slapper. Scraping the barrel there. Ha. Anyway. That is perhaps exactly why I should write this #datingdiary.
I’ve always found the dating world quite. Confusing. Keep men at bay – and make them work for ‘it’ whatever it is. And they usually have got bored and have tinkered off on a new adventure. With the rise of apps such as Tinder, Bumble etc – where dating is on tap, and something or someone (something – ha!) else or ‘better’ is just around that corner there! A fickle world is the playground of London dating.
Anyway. I live in an area which is quite ‘well to do’. And I’ve never really felt like I’ve fitted in. The posh accent I found quite amusing in it’s extremeness that when I met this group of people – I was in awe.
“Are you putting that accent on?” I queried. Wondering to myself why my accent had just got a bit more ‘street’. Hmm. Where did that come from, I pondered.
I was talking to a friend recently – who got in touch with me with a short and snappy facebook alert “I’ve got gossip!” he mailed out of the blue.
“Yeeeeessss” I instantly replied back.. like any good friend should – when someone emails with gossip. You know it’s going to do with genitalia and will most probably be an entertaining story.
“So I went out. I was totally sober – and had a one night stand with this Russian woman. She was totally sober too. It was nice.”
“Oh. Ok.. how did that happen”. I asked inquisitively. “I mean like – what actually happened”.
“Well we met on the dancefloor and it just happened”.
“Dude, seriously, you gotta give me more than that.”. I retaliated. Wondering if that sounded perverse.
“Oh yeah, I wouldn’t make a very good Mills and Boons writer”. He joked. I rolled my eyes to myself. “I meant the part that led to you ending up in bed. I mean, my imagination is telling me you ended up in the toilets! I don’t want to know how long it lasted for or the details of it for gods sake.” So anyway sounded like he had a perfectly ‘nice’ interaction.
“And we met once more. And that was it – I didn’t feel the need to carry the interaction on. It was. Nice”.
“Oh fair enough”. I replied
My own experience of the one night stand. Well. It was fine. Pleasant I guess. And actually far too intimate than I was actually ready for if I’m honest. It was sober. We’d met had a night of fun – with him and his friends – who were all very pleasant despite their love of Margaret Thatcher, jobs in politics (the Conservative side), high level school education (yes I think Prince William and Kate might have been schooled with them). But anyway I decided to not engage in a debate about any of that. Because as I said. They were pleasantly pleasant.
So it was a fun evening where they had taken me into their fold. He took my number and we ended up meeting again.
And so. He texted me when he left. And that is the part that I wish had just got lost. I replied. I was flattered that he wanted to keep in contact.
So.. anyway, a few days later.. he adds me on facebook. Then he whatsapps me again.
“It was so nice to meet you!.. I’d really like to be friends with you. I’m not really over my ex yet”. “Erm.. ok” I reply.
“Well. She was just so special. I mean, we’d only been dating for three months. She went back to her ex. But. SHE WAS JUST SO SPECIAL’. There it was. That fucking word again. How special his ex was. I dated someone for not so long – many years ago – that loved to use that word about his new girlfriend. To boost his own self esteem to me it seemed ‘She’s different – she’s just so special.. so special. So fucking special. Special. Speciiiaaal’….
Wow. The more I look at that word – the more I ponder if I’ve spelt it right.
So as he continued to tell me about him spending loads of money on her – and blah blah blah. I just replied with a ‘oh sounds like you got duped’.
Told him I didn’t want to be friends and proceeded to block him on these terribly exposing social media sites. Because I’m not a relationship counsellor. Although that does sound like an interesting job I fear I’d quite frankly not have the patience for it
Session 562 “Shall I leave him.. Shall I not.. do I love..” “Oh for gods sake just dump him!”. (Ha, always very easy to say when you’re not the one feeling the feelings huh!)
I could act like the really cool girl that doesn’t give a sh*t. But actions have consequences. And I couldn’t be bothered to try be the cool girl who doesn’t give a crap. Life is too short for inauthenticity.
And so. To conclude. Not all one night stands are bad. Sometimes they are just what they are. And dealt with properly afterwards – feelings hurt can be minimized. Whether that means not texting back – or just being kind afterwards. Always be kind. And then remaining friends. It’s human nature to want to have sex or connect. Whilst, it would have been nice to have been friends, his words following the interaction made me feel rather disrespected.
Ok, you’re not that into me.. I got it – stop going on about it…jeez louise I was meant to feel sexually empowered but you’re male ego is stealing that from me’ sob sob
And so. I admit it to myself. That I’m just not the sort of person who can do the one night stand thing. So all in all. I am grateful to his honesty and that actually it’s his issues of being stuck on his ex rather than about me. I am grateful to have learnt that lesson of what I have to do next. And I’m grateful to know – that I just don’t work that way – and I should not kid myself that that’s ok for me.
And so that was the end of that. Until you find out he’s given you Chlamydia or some other horrendous disease.
Until the next time I’m buttered up by charm and good looks! Stay safe people.
My male best friend of 26 years texts me…”Be cool Becki.. be cool”.. Me: “But. Why? What do you mean? Why… ” Oh to be woman in a man’s world.
And now I feel like a right… ‘slaaa…. ‘ challenges thinking ‘strong, inquisitive independent woman – who’s very fucking special” 🙂
Karma Police – arrest this man. He’s a detuned radio. And I don’t like it. Phew. For a minute there. I lost myself. Get the chastity belt out.
“I’ve given all I can. It’s not enough”. Radiohead