In Praise of Providence


Say only what is necessary and in few words. Epictetus

I have been on many sites over the last decade, from traditional dating sites to BDSM and fetish sites, hookup sites to relationship sites.  For a variety of reasons I currently find myself on a swinging site.  It could be great, but I’ve been on there several months and it’s been largely just frustrating.  I’ve been stood up more in the last few months than in the entire rest of my life, I’ve been blocked en route to a meet on more than one occasion, I’ve been abused in the most vile of terms and have found myself branded a time-waster and a fake for not being able to meet on a weekday afternoon (has nobody else ever held a 9 to 5 job?).

As a single woman on a swinging site it’s widely believed that the cards are stacked entirely in my favour and I need only crook my finger to have a string of handsome, witty, intelligent, urbane beaux lining up to be the recipient of my favours.  If only!

Dotted among the dross and the dreck are the most fantastic people.  They shine out in that dreary environment like a candle in a coalmine.  I exchange the most elegant messages on subjects from poetry to religion, from the nature of desire to the softness of the skin at the top of my breasts, from modern art to favourite lingerie sets, from mental health provision in the NHS to my celebrity crushes and fondness for odd physical features (anyone else a fan of pronounced nasolabial lines?).  When I receive several dozen “hey babe” and “fancy a shag?” messages every day, receiving a thoughtful and articulate message is a joy.

I am the furthest thing from laconic.  I tell rambling stories and take odd little verbal detours before I get to my point.  I expect some attempt at conversation before I rip my knickers off and I think of myself as ridiculously easy to talk to on almost any subject.  If someone can’t hold up a conversation it doesn’t mean they’re shy (I’ve propped up many a conversation with someone nervous and it’s not a tough ask if you know how to approach it), it means they aren’t prepared to put in the bare minimum of effort even when they’re trying to attract.  If they can’t be bothered to type more than three words (lost count of the number of “fancy a fuck” messages I’ve received) then why would I think they will attach any importance to my pleasure if we actually met up? Most of my one-line messages get deleted.  They don’t vary, they’re incredibly tedious, and the outcome if I bother to respond to them is always the same. 

When T last night commented on the fact I’d met up with him in spite of him opening with “fancy a drink?” I couldn’t explain it.  Maybe I just did, in fact, fancy a drink.

Comments

  1. Ricky23 February 2020 at 05:18

    Lucky T. I'd write you poetry if it meant you'd meet me

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. CuriousScouser23 February 2020 at 08:45

      Lucky me too, he was a lot of fun and exactly what I needed!
      Sarahx

      Delete
  2. Ric1 March 2020 at 23:30

    Fancy a drink?

    ReplyDelete

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