20 April 2015


So I had the date with the 40 Year Old Surgeon from Tinder.

I went deep into date prep on Thursday night. He suggested a Friday night date and we all know that a Friday night date means sexual seduction is quite possibly on the cards.

So I charged up the clippers for some in-depth manscaping. Everything was going swimmingly until I knicked my undercarriage. It didn't hurt too much so I moved on, but when I squatted over the mirror to clipper my asshole, I realised the extent of the damage. It looked like I had gotten my period for the very first time, honestly, it was like a an inkblot test. I think I can see a butterfly. No it's just a bloody perineum.


Fortunately, my impromptu vagina healed for the big night otherwise this guy could be getting his red wings.

It was left up to me to choose the venue. So I enlisted the help of the hipster gays to tell me where the best place to head in Soho was. My brief was cool, not gay, but with a friendly vibe so that if we did start to eat each others face off, zucchini fritters would not be thrown at us. Apparently this was Polpo on Cambridge Circus.  

I was as dressed up as I thought appropriate for a first date with a doctor. Fitted black shirt and dark denim jeans. Sleek and streamlined. It's my go to date outfit. So I turned up about 15 minutes early to a packed bar. I wanted to stake out a table, but there was nothing except a couple of stools in the corner under what was essentially a spotlight. So I looked for my best light and positioned myself like I was a Greta Garbo readying herself for a close up and waited.

He came through the door and I was instantly disappointed. He was wearing bright white joggers/trainers/sneakers and dad jeans. What sort of doctor are you? He apparently had the day off. That still doesn't answer my question.

I know you're all sitting there in judgement at my judgement, but if you were in the same situation, a cool bar in Soho after making an effort yourself, your boner too, would have inverted.  

As we chatted, there was no spark of attraction for me and under the spotlight, I had to avert my eyes often from the bright white trainers. It just seemed like he didn't have a lot of finesse and when he used cockney rhyming slang to indicate he needed to go pee pee and then explained it to me, I wondered what was cockney rhyming slang for I never want to see you again.

I tried to drink through it, but when he started to list all the foods he didn't like, I started to eye fuck the exit like no-ones business.

So we left it and went our separate ways. I am in denial that he has texted asking for another date.


1 comment:

  1. ...when he started to list all the foods he didn't like...

    Some guys actually think this is an appopriate thing to go into on a first date????

    Sorry the guy turned out to be such a flop. I hope you at least enjoyed your drinks and/or the atmosphere.


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