DATING DIARY: “Floaters”

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




How would Beyoncé deal with getting dumped, the topic of depression or having to break up her little brothers poo with a stick?

Luisa Omielan’s sell out show – for good reason.. is an hour and a half of witty, down to earth, real issues most ladies have probably experienced at one time or another during their lives – the “What Would Beyonce Do?” is an uplifting, side splitting celebration of womanhood…

It’s hard to imagine Luisa suffering from low confidence or having trouble attracting a man as she twerks proudly on stage in her tight clad leggings and glittery crop top. Luisa pushes the boundaries of what might not be deemed ‘acceptable’ as a young woman to talk about.. “my dear girl.. we don’t talk about such things…” and these are conversations that need having. After all..“girls run the world..” er…don’t we? Topics such as equality are subtly, cleverly and humorously addressed as is the ridiculousness of the confusing media messages women are fed on a daily basis (I know… how do you make that funny? But oh she does…).

Luisa is a fresh, young brilliant voice for gender equality – delivering one of the best comedy shows I have seen – relatable and quirky – Luisa Omielan is my new heroine. If you’ve not been you’ve missed a real treat… a ten out of ten show…

Luisa’s next show with be out in February titled ‘Am I Right Ladies’… Im so like.. totally there. #amIrightladies #whatwouldbeyoncedo #ohdearyme



This guy rocked up at the table me and a friend were sharing. He pulled up a seat and cheekily butted his head into the conversation my friend and I were having. He seemed like a nice enough fella so we took the amusement factor on board and involved him for five minutes. Asking for my number we stayed in touch for a few weeks via text message only. His initial contact being… ‘it’s so great to make new friends..’ ‘I’ll always be your friend’.. etc etc etc. Heavy usage on the ‘friend’ word there.

One day… I received a text..

“I am going to make love to you and you have no choice in the matter…haha bet that woke you up!”

He seemed a nice enough man so I assumed that basically he was just a bit thick.

“Erm…. isn’t that rape” I replied.

“Eh?” he replied. “No cos I am going to make love” he replied…(???)….“I was joking” he added. Weird kind of joke I thought.

Then a few hours later I received another text. “Let’s do lunch tomorrow!” he asked. I was unsure after his rapey message.

“Come on fanny fortress…it’s not like we’re about to get married” he pushed.

“Oh! I won’t bother then” I replied sarcastically. Adding.. “please don’t call me fanny fortress it’s disgusting…” to the end of the discussion.

“I was joking I am not going to censor myself round you” he replied.

And that was the end of that.

I’m not ignorant to the conversations men have with each other (online in forums or otherwise) and I expect he wanted a reaction from me that would be….more giggly?

But I didn’t trust this guy for the mind traps he was setting out.. ‘it’s nice to have a friend..’.. ie – if we ever ‘did’ anything he’d already laid his cards out on the table ‘I said I didn’t want more than that’ for example. But then followed it all up with texts containing words such as gorgeous, beautiful. i.e. – this guy was a bit of a player and I got the impression he was talking a lot of crap.

Also I think anyone should be able to ask assertively to not be called something which makes them feel uncomfortable.

Sometimes however, people don’t want to adhere to others boundaries or don’t like being pulled up on what they’ve said. But I get the feeling some guys just want to see how much they can get away with..

Oh…dear…yep whatevs..


Dating Diary: Girls

Artist on front: Lykke Steenbach

“Go talk to her” I urge an old male friend.. “she looks fun”… I hadn’t seen him for a few years. And with a bookful of drink vouchers we were both feeling just around about merry.

“Hmmm” he looks over at the two girls giggling at the bar. Clasping his leather briefcase, I shove him in their direction. With a facebook timeline oozing babies and marriages I decide I need to make new girlfriends to play with. I mean have fun with. I push my buddy in the direction of his penis.

“Go on.. go..” I whisper encouragingly in his ear.

My friend oozing charm walks over.. and introduces himself. He starts whittling on about some of his passions in life. And they seem to enjoy the topics of conversation. With everyone giggling away and alcohol having dulled everyone’s senses he suddenly changes direction and looks down at my friends chest area… “Fake?” he splutters pointing at them with an air that could have initiated a reaction that could have gone either way.. I cringe.. but she smiles and laughs.. “yes”.

She looks down at her assets and all eyes in the circle suddenly direct themselves to her chest area. “How can you tell that?” I demand forgetting to think. They certainly didn’t look fake. To me. “Lets go for a cigarette” she offers.

Five minutes later.. she is removing her top.

“So… do you want to touch them???” she asks. I hadn’t seen fake breasts before. I look down at mine. And back at hers.

Erm. I start to wonder if I’ve been flogging a dead horse with the male species.

I look at her. And I feel confused.



He looks at my drink…”let me get you another!” and runs off toward the bar. He comes back with a full pint for me.. I look over at his glass.. only half full. Then back to my own. An overflowing curvaceous goddess of liquid gold full to it’s brim.

I grab his glass… and pour half of the drink he came back with into it before he can say…

Hey!!! Why did you do that?” he looks at me slightly angry. I don’t really understand why because they’re both the same drink. And I hadn’t even taken a sip of mine. Sharing is caring right?

I decide I won’t take a sip until he takes one first. I wait patiently. One minute… two minutes. Three pass. Four.. then FINALLY. 

He takes a gulp. Ok. Probably rohypnol free then. My green light to go. I drink my half with an innate awareness. Why is he going so slow…..It doesn’t take long. I’ve finished. And I get up to leave.

“Where are you going?” he glances up looking perplexed. I shrugAnd decide to culminate a less paranoid explanation… “Er.. I need to get some.. chips? Night!”. Chips, chips, chips, du, du, du, du, du. Mmmm chips Ci bum ci bum bum

Good luck my baby.

Becki Bx

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