Last weekend, I went out with a bunch of guys from the rugby team in town here. One of them is an old colleague of mine, and told me to come along. Me and a rugby team? Hell yes!
Even better, I was the only female there. So there was me, and 7 huge, muscular, incredibly handsome men from South Africa, New Zealand and Australia, to mention a few. Did I think I would be having sex? Hell yes! Lots of it. I had been looking forward to this night for a week, needless to say. I came all prepared, dressed, and groomed.
Did I hold my own? Totally. I used my secret rum weapon and was completely able to keep up with the boys. But here’s the thing I never realized; absolutely no one is going to talk to you when you’re surrounded by a group of bodyguards all the time. They were all lovely, I never paid for a single drink, they offered to get out of the way if I wanted to hook up, but then came bouncing right back when I was left alone for a few minutes. Why didn’t I go get laid? I shouldn’t have any problems in that area. Err, no. Not usually. Yet none of these men considered the thought I’d be up for a shag with either one of them. Why not? I asked the next day. ‘Cause you’re one of the guys!’. Awesome.
But on Friday, I have my first date through my paid website. He’s an American engineer that recently moved here. We were supposed to go for drinks tomorrow, until I found out I had to go to Germany for work. He kindly re-adjusted his schedule for me. Good sign! We exchanged phone numbers, and he sent me a regular text. Stalker that I am, I checked to see if he had Whatsapp. And when he did, I checked his profile picture…. and saw a 40 year old grey man, that looks nothing like his 29 self from the site. Fair enough, he hadn’t been online since May 2013, so I am hoping he got a recycled phone number and is still trying to work out the Dutch. Asking would be a little awkward, so I am prepared to run on Friday!