Wednesday, October 4

Men really are buslike - part two

Ok, having explained how A fits into my life and makes my heart itch in a way I just can't reach to satisfy alone, I continue my treatise on why men are like buses...

When I initially determined to date other men I joined a couple of online dating sites. As a single mum that already spends a lot of guilt-inducing time away from her children doing martial arts stuff I felt that I needed the quickest and most direct route to like-minded men and, of course, the internet has long been my answer to life, love and everything. Ever since I met my first married lover and we both left our spouses for each other, in fact. And that was in the days of dial-up - oh, the romance when the phone bills came in!

Actually, now I'm thinking about it, he wasn't my first married lover. That would have been K who I met whilst working p/t in a local transport cafe and screwed regularly for a period of six months or so in his lorry bunk. He was in his late thirties (hmm... now I think about it, early forties? Ffs, just how naive was I?!) at the time, I was in my mid teens, going to Depeche Mode concerts and wearing a uniform of an oversized mans shirt as a dress with a belt slung round my hips (for modesty, if you please!) and canvas slouch boots. He smoked Embassy No1, drank bitter and had the most sexy Liverpool accent. I smoked whatever I could afford that week, drank whatever someone bought me and fucked him like his wife could never imagine. Even tho he never once made me cum, to this day if I see a truck from his firm I clock the drivers face, just in case... Whatever, when I say first married lover what I mean is the first lover I took while *I* was married. And the only one, being that I left my husband for the silly bastard.

But anyway. I have quite a few promising, net safe double blind for twenty five quid a month, email exchanges that lead on to some somewhat less fun dates where I come to realise that I'm quite possibly the only person in the world that is completely honest about who I am and what I'm looking for by email. I've spent a lot of my 37 years being cynical and disparaging about men and, having done loads of personal development work, therapy etc., I'm trying my best to accept each man on his own terms but ffs, blokes! You really don't help yourselves when you build a persona that you can't possibly live up to in a mutually convenient Weatherspoons. I really am the bolshy, giggly, 5'2", fairly assertive, busty blonde that's clued-up to her own needs and not afraid to voice them woman that wears something pink every day and knows how to control her adrenaline response in order to hit an attacker on any appropriate pressure point to cause disablement whilst, at the same time, looking innocent and self-defensive to any cctv cameras that happens to be operating in the vicinity, that I put across in all of my e-communications.

Is it really that fucking difficult for you to be as honest as I am when embarking on a mutually sought, potentially life-long relationship as a bona fide grown up person? For all the idiosyncracies, the 'shrinking violets need not apply' warnings, the socially-inappropriate fuck fantasies and the absolute openness about the fact that you simply don't get anywhere near my kids for as long as I feel like - and this is absolutely non-fucking-negotiable no matter how popular an uncle you are - , and even then there's twelvety-hundred or so hoops you have to jump through to prove yourself safe and worthy enough to even speak to them. You stupid bastards still get your sister/her mates that fancy you/your PA's to ghost write your missives thinking they'll know what to say to guarantee you getting your end away with the Essex bird that has broadband. Mugs.

Please accept my profuse apologies for the part three that suddenly appears necessary to complete this essay of just how and why men are like buses (and for my more than likely mis-spelling of neccessary - bite my grammatical arse, it's just one of those words that escapes my grasp just when I need it most, a bit like men, really...)

1 comment:

Wild Cat said...

I, too, tried the internet dating thing, with much disappointment. It made me wonder if I was in fact the only 'at-least-half' normal person who could use a keyboard!