It’s always the same. You spend time with friends or family who are recently coupled or childrened (it’s a word, I’ve decided) so you go back to your flat and start wondering why they have what you want and you’re still here eating your weight in haribos and twix? The universe is unfair and you’re convinced that you’re cursed.
You don’t want to force any potential dates into seriousness too early and you aren’t the sort to trick a man into fatherhood. What are your options, my precious? It’s another weekend of googling ‘dating curses and how to get rid of them’ and you’re not exactly feeling your sexiest.
Then an ex contacts you. He’s a twat of epic proportions and 9 times out of 10 you would ignore the whats up whatapp but it’s been a while and you need a pick me up. Twix isn’t working anymore.
So you engage in puerile conversation which boils down to one thing: You reckon sex will take the edge off the ennui. Deep down you know it won’t but just for this moment in time you reckon it might. The conversation starts in the day time and goes well into the night. Before you know it it’s that booty call hour and he’s all up and asking what you’re doing that night. Your friends are all busy and you saw them last night. You have nothing planned and when he invites himself around with Nandos it’s hard to say no. I mean, it would be better to go to his as he has a TV and you could catch a rare episode of Match of the Day but that would entail getting dressed and taking shit for the morning and you remember now why you don’t date men who live outside of your 45 minute dating zone and ….you tell him that it’s fine he can come round but he mustn’t forget the corn on the cob or the chicken livers. He’s cheap and thinks a whole chicken and one large chips is going to crack it. It’s not. The singletinis pity hole needs livers.
He comes over and you do that 90 minute dance of pretending it’s not about sex and eat the food. You don’t have much to say to each other as you’ve caught up on both of your gossip on whatsapp. It’s awkward but then he spots a little peri peri sauce on your face and he goes in for the kill. There are still chips and livers on the plate so you’re a bit put off because, food is food, but you go with it and let the seduction begin.
The next thing you’re in bed and chances are he’s fallen asleep. It’s been less than 20 minutes since your last chip and you’re calculating if you can still eat them or of you’ll have to zap them in the microwave. As for the sex which used to be a 7 when you had feelings, well it’s now a 5.5 and you’re not impressed. You don’t want him to stay over as that will mean morning sex and having to share the left overs. You just want him gone so that you can curl up with a good book, catch up on facebook crap and eat the left overs. It’s all about the left overs as the sex wasn’t saying much. You plot creeping into the kitchen and putting some of the leftovers away before he wakes up so that you don’t have to share. You look down at his body and you realise that he didn’t only break up with you but with the gym too. He’s starting to look quite feminine and he’s gotten boobs and hips. That’s what it is. It was like having sex with an aggressive girl who grunted and tasted of peri peri sauce. Sigh…..
And THIS is why Nandos should deliver.
© Chelsea Black