Seeing someone without obligations has its benefits. Winter can cause a plethora of climate issues, which are usually resolved with an increasing amount of spooning, and let’s face it, forking.
It had been an interesting 4 weeks, but the latest boy to grace Perth Serial Dater’s exclusive Friday night prime-time slot was still hanging around. There had been movie dates, sex, dinner dates, sex, bedroom dates, and…….. well, more sex. A British lad from Brighton, this 26 year old not known for his ability to strike conversation, he was known for his flaming red hair, jaw line you can abseil from, and gigantic appendage…Lads and lasses, this one was a tripod…
A man of ‘many legs’, the boy was given the identity of ‘Mr. Octopus’. PSD played it cool as he does so well, as Perth’s Serial Dater he knows all too well that smaller is safer, but bigger is better. Why not keep him coming back? The amusement went so far as to take PSD and the Octopus on a whale watching trip. Now PSD was no stranger to wildlife – a cheeky beverage at The Court will place you before all types of strange creatures, including whales – but PSD was perhaps thinking that the sea mammal adventure was the beginning of something serious. Cue dating EXPLOSION.
‘I got tested, and I didn’t come clean…’
Everyone loves a surprise. It might be a marshmallow in your Soto Hot Chocolate, or a cock up your … but anyway Syphilis on a Sunday is certainly something that a serial dater doesn’t want to ever hear. A small amount of Wikipedia research, and a blood-test and urine sample confirmed PSD as negative, but the question remained as to whether the octopus had his legs tangled up in other places. PSD phoned, and asked if there were others. ‘No, but I’m just not feeling it like I think you are’, said the Octopus.
Feel? This strange concept had once brushed PSD’s mind, only once, many years ago – but that moment was soon clouded by a martini and Jaeger Bombs. The intent, however, was clear, and the once-charming British accent became sour. The thing is, PSD knew exactly what those words meant…
I want to sleep with other men… ‘Okseeyoubye!’ …. End. Call.
To PSD, the octopus was dead. He may as well have shoe-laced eight concrete boots to his feet, and taken a paddle in the Gulf of I’m a Freakin’ Loser…. It doesn’t matter how big your appendages are squid-boy, you’re going to drown, probably with multiple penicillin needles in your ass.
Fresh on the market, Perth’s Serial Dater worked by only one rule: It’s His Loss. No matter what the prize, there are always plenty more fish in the sea. But this wasn’t the end of PSD’s plight with the red-headed day walkers. The following Friday night became booked with a writer he met two months ago at the Brisbane. He’s tall, and pretty freakin’ handsome at age 22. They went to pizza in the Gaybourhood and it was all just… a bit… too… lovely. Not really dangerous enough for PSD’s liking. The boy had a killer smile, until the light reflected onto his skin revealing a neck to toe covering of freckles. Poor little lad, he would have been teased at school. Everyone knows that nice guys don’t finish twice.
PSD left gracefully, and it took only 30mins for Journo Boy to start sending PSD a whole bunch of text messages like ‘I thought I’d build up the courage to say I really, really like you and would like to spend more time with you etc, etc, gush gushy mcgush’… If this journo had any more displays of ‘needy’, then PSD might need to *spew* all over the stunning Melbourne boy that he picked up at Connections instead.
Red was just the wrong colour for winter……. Correction: Red is just wrong.
Not to dismay! Hats are in this spring. September always gives the dating scene an extra special spring into life. It is going to be a grand month….
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