the dating dilemma.
“I don’t get it!” I begin , “Penis pictures... and messages about how they want to meet and greet me with a turkey slap to my face! How is that an inducing invitation?” I ask; I mean, really?
“Guys think that the door only opens to a bit of debauchery these days... women are getting more aggressive in their approach , so men are countering that by trying to tip the scales back in their favour, and prove they’re not pussy’s!” Rachel explains.
“By sending me pictures of their penises?” I ask. “They’re not even attached to them! I’m basically looking at a catalogue of dildos! I can’t see the remainder of their bodies in most of them! What if their face requires a paper bag?” I ask.
Rachel laughs.
“Rachel... you know how many penises I’ve seen , you’re in the same business as me! We get to see more penises and pussy’s than the most sought after rent boys!” I lament.
Rachel is snorting, she’s laughing so hard.
“You’re only laughing because you know it’s true!” I lament.
“Yes...” snort... “I know...” snort... “Funny and true!” she sums it up while snorting!
“I really don’t mind a bit of the wild stuff... I mean; tie me up, smother me with whipped cream... use toys and fuck me hard, but I’m not going to start a relationship based on that as the main conversation! I don’t want to meet a total stranger and discuss my favourite fuck positions before it’s established that they’re good to look at; actually have a personality; and are reliable! I don’t want someone waltzing in and screwing me over more than I already have been!” I argue.
“Good for you!” Rachel says, “Look, nice guys who are a great fuck are out there... even guys that are sweet outside of the bedroom and killer in the sack , but good luck trying to find them!” Rachel explains. “That’s why I date fellow professionals!” she says.
I know who she dates... doctors! Who can blame her? There’s fresh meat every six month rotation when the registrars come through. I don’t actually have a preference for doctors. Not that I haven’t drooled over my fair share! But I don’t care about the job really; just as long as they have one, and they don’t need me to pay their way! For me, if it ever happens, it will be about the guy!
This internet dating bullshit has done nothing to alleviate my suspicions about the douchebagery that is men ; despite my desperate need to have one of them of my own some day! But the Jade of my teenage past which was all about having a quick fuck, is just not there anymore! I’ve changed... it’s been so long since I’ve been carefree, and I realise I’ve kind of become a hermit. I’ve lost the art of securing and enjoying a one night stand or going out and getting drunk for enjoyment! I’m a total loser! I’m like a 50 year old, and I’m only 24! Maybe I should become bitter and start breeding cats!
“So tell me about this move to Atherton.” I ask.
Benjamin Reynolds.
The phone is ringing... where the fuck is it? It’s on the floor where I obviously just knocked it by flinging my arms about.
I look at the clock on my nightstand ; it’s 3:30 in the God damn morning! Who in hell’s name is calling at this hour? It’s Christmas Day!
“Hello?” I grumble down the phone.
“Ben?” My Mum asks.
“Mum? What’s up?” I ask. She knows the time differences , this is important if she’s calling at this time.
“I’m dying Ben... will you come home?” she says bleakly.
Chapter Six: A Change is Coming
...January…
Ben.
I’m looking over the contract I had to leave in December, and it hits me once again; that I didn’t go through with it because I came home to help my Mum fight an insidious disease and buy her more time on this planet... why would I even be bothered to have brought this along with me... to look at the enormous six figure salary I
“I don’t get it!” I begin , “Penis pictures... and messages about how they want to meet and greet me with a turkey slap to my face! How is that an inducing invitation?” I ask; I mean, really?
“Guys think that the door only opens to a bit of debauchery these days... women are getting more aggressive in their approach , so men are countering that by trying to tip the scales back in their favour, and prove they’re not pussy’s!” Rachel explains.
“By sending me pictures of their penises?” I ask. “They’re not even attached to them! I’m basically looking at a catalogue of dildos! I can’t see the remainder of their bodies in most of them! What if their face requires a paper bag?” I ask.
Rachel laughs.
“Rachel... you know how many penises I’ve seen , you’re in the same business as me! We get to see more penises and pussy’s than the most sought after rent boys!” I lament.
Rachel is snorting, she’s laughing so hard.
“You’re only laughing because you know it’s true!” I lament.
“Yes...” snort... “I know...” snort... “Funny and true!” she sums it up while snorting!
“I really don’t mind a bit of the wild stuff... I mean; tie me up, smother me with whipped cream... use toys and fuck me hard, but I’m not going to start a relationship based on that as the main conversation! I don’t want to meet a total stranger and discuss my favourite fuck positions before it’s established that they’re good to look at; actually have a personality; and are reliable! I don’t want someone waltzing in and screwing me over more than I already have been!” I argue.
“Good for you!” Rachel says, “Look, nice guys who are a great fuck are out there... even guys that are sweet outside of the bedroom and killer in the sack , but good luck trying to find them!” Rachel explains. “That’s why I date fellow professionals!” she says.
I know who she dates... doctors! Who can blame her? There’s fresh meat every six month rotation when the registrars come through. I don’t actually have a preference for doctors. Not that I haven’t drooled over my fair share! But I don’t care about the job really; just as long as they have one, and they don’t need me to pay their way! For me, if it ever happens, it will be about the guy!
This internet dating bullshit has done nothing to alleviate my suspicions about the douchebagery that is men ; despite my desperate need to have one of them of my own some day! But the Jade of my teenage past which was all about having a quick fuck, is just not there anymore! I’ve changed... it’s been so long since I’ve been carefree, and I realise I’ve kind of become a hermit. I’ve lost the art of securing and enjoying a one night stand or going out and getting drunk for enjoyment! I’m a total loser! I’m like a 50 year old, and I’m only 24! Maybe I should become bitter and start breeding cats!
“So tell me about this move to Atherton.” I ask.
Benjamin Reynolds.
The phone is ringing... where the fuck is it? It’s on the floor where I obviously just knocked it by flinging my arms about.
I look at the clock on my nightstand ; it’s 3:30 in the God damn morning! Who in hell’s name is calling at this hour? It’s Christmas Day!
“Hello?” I grumble down the phone.
“Ben?” My Mum asks.
“Mum? What’s up?” I ask. She knows the time differences , this is important if she’s calling at this time.
“I’m dying Ben... will you come home?” she says bleakly.
Chapter Six: A Change is Coming
...January…
Ben.
I’m looking over the contract I had to leave in December, and it hits me once again; that I didn’t go through with it because I came home to help my Mum fight an insidious disease and buy her more time on this planet... why would I even be bothered to have brought this along with me... to look at the enormous six figure salary I
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