‘Whats YOUR price……’

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So …. What IS your price?

How much would it take for you to go on a date with a fat older man in his 50’s that is probably married? ( if you were unemployed, lost and were struggling to make your rent)

How much would you do it for? When I say do it…… I mean dinner or lunch. NOTHING else. Unless of course he turned out to be hot.

Silver fox hot.

Then you could do what you wanted with him. I wouldn’t judge.

So far I’ve done 3 pay’ed on line dates on this website ‘ what’s your price.com’

I have made £375 altogether. (less , if u take into consideration travel expenses which unfortunately are not included)

It now seems silly and a complete waste of time to actually meet someone on a date and NOT get paid. This is ridiculous I know.

And possibly dangerous.

If I ever actually meet a nice man that I’m attracted too, I might just wait around to be paid after we have spent a few hours together chatting at a bar.

The first looked like a red faced old bull. He worked in IT. He lived in kent. Need I say more.

I resisted the temptation to just ask for the cash up front when we met outside Covent garden tube station. I instead waited till right at the end and sort of said in a pathetic fake laughy blushing way, as we walked back from the restraunt to the tube.

‘ So…. how does the money thing work…. I have never done this before’ ( imagine fake coyness in my voice and facial expressions)

PAUSE

‘I think I just give it to you.’ He said

That was the most amusing moment of the entire evening.

Then he handed over the £150.

I kissed him on the cheek at the bottom of the escalater and thanked him for the sushi dinner. then scuttled away.  Feeling like a cheap sushi hore.

But as I opened my hand and saw the wad of 10 pound notes I suddenly felt like Sharon stone in casino And like I could do anything I wanted in life. ( I was also wearing a vintage fur coat)

The second ( the next night) looked like a small pointy field mouse mixed with moley From mighty mouse.

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I met him in a bar near where live. I wanted to save on travel costs. He wore a suit jacket, an open shirt and boot cut jeans and very pointy shoes. I took him to a comedy night in Kentish town that I have a gig at in 3 weeks time. The possibility of seeing someone I knew was high. But something about that made it all more sick / funny?!

The third. (And my favourite so far)

We met outside the national portrait gallery in Leister Square. He was there all of a sudden in my face smiling and kissing both cheeks.

We both trotted up the the café on the top floor and he ordered the ‘ strawberry and kiwi tea infusion’

I had a strong black coffee.

He was quite interesting. A late 30 something entrepreneur. His dad had been an ambassador. They had lost everything when he was young. But he had made it all back. Plus some.

He shared some story’s about ‘Dates’ he had been on, which I’m presuming were paid because they all involved eastern European women….one turning up with the opening line ‘ I’ve just snorted 2 lines of cokecain and done some meow meow so I may be a little wired’

we agreed that at least she had been chatty. And that was surely a positive.

One other wanted him to throw the money AT her.

2 hours later we trotted out of the gallery and I was £75 richer. He had put it in a card with my ‘ whats your price’ name on it. It was a birthday card.

I liked that

The 4th one is meant to be any minute now. I’m in a café in Knightsbridge opposite Harrods waiting for this fat Arab to show up. I’ve been waiting a while. I haven’t eaten since breakfast  ( its now 5pm and I ate cold cheap porridge at 5am)

I’m really hoping to get dinner.

I’m wearing a spotty black and white dress, a black fur coat , vintage looking peal earing’s, red lipstick from mac called ‘lady danger’ and purple suede heels.

Half of me feel’s like a hooker.

Half, a stylish young lady on her laptop waiting for her friend (who would be a fashion buyer /stylist/media type) to show up. We would go for a large glass of red wine that would be served in a very clean glass. We would  slag off our high powered jobs, how we don’t have any time for our fiancés or dogs or wedding plans and then talk about how difficult we find  it with our (to be) sister in laws. we also maybe planning a couplesy picnic on Hampstead heath that weekend.

Fucking Yuk.

I’m so glad I’m penniless, single and unemployed. And cried myself to sleep last night. Sometimes crying feels good when you let it happen. But only wen your alone.

I am resisting the strong urge to just fuck it off and go and meet the effeminate fraggle  ( see previous blog ) and Deano in shoreditch for drinks.

I need a fraggle detox. An exorcism. I have not seen him since the day we went for breakfast, despite him texting EVERYday.

Whats that about??!!

Is the fraggle lonely?

Is the fraggle bored?

Is the fraggle trying not to text his ex girlfriend?

Or Is the fraggle secretly in love with me.

As I said. I need a fraggle detox. An exorcism. and fast.

Im going to wait for the FAT ARAB.

I’m starving. and need this £150

The Trap of the Effeminate male Fraggle

Red 2I think I’m in trouble. In the midst of all this dating I have developed feelings for a silly effeminate creature that turns out to actually be a man.  When did this happen?!

I feel like I am in trouble.

He was performing at my 6th open mic comedy gig. I saw him sat in a dark corner a few seats along. He had hair like a fraggle ( you remember fraggles rock don’t u? hair exactly like that ) I liked him automatically. You know those people you just see and you know you like them.

He has become a friend. Inviting me out over the last few weeks. The first night he introduced me to a very beautiful stand up comic who I thought was his girlfriend, as he has mentioned he had one. Turned out SHE was on a date ( is everyone on dates???!!! ) I brought my Irish friend ( the one who is also online dating and likes polish girls with huge tits from the first blog)

After he had introduced us, the effeminate creature flounced off to Shoreditch to meet other friends. And the rest of us decided to stay local. One of the guys from the dating website I’m on was in the area, so I told him to come along and meet us. I had been chatting to this one for 2 weeks on ‘what’s app’ and I thought it was about time we met!

He walked in. I turned to my Irish friend ‘ oh god. That’s him’

He was short. Shorter than he had said.

His eyebrows had been waxed in the middle…. Which alone is not an offence… but also they had been shaped. You know the way 20 something year old Spanish and Italian men do?!

He had a huge dressing on the side of his face. He had apparently just had a growth removed.

Nice.

But worst of all. He didn’t listen. You know those people who just talk over you continually. They don’t stop to absorb. Conversations are a two-way thing. I think anyway. Well , there not with my mother but then who has proper conversations with their mother ? right?!

I smiled and listened and laughed at his drippy jokes.

It was getting more difficult to pretend that he was interesting as I got more drunk .

I caught the eye of The beautiful blond stand up  and did the wide-eyed ‘ help me the fuck out’ look

She moved fast. It was impressive. Grabbing my hand she said

‘ do wanna come for a fag babe’

‘yeah… I do!’ I said quickly

He dressing man then grabbed my other hand and said

‘I thought you said you had given up?!!’

I was too drunk and empowered by the beautiful blonde stand up to remain polite

‘ well…. Ive started again!!!!’

We left the pub. And started to running down dean street in Soho laughing and spilling our wine.

‘ Fuck it …. You’ll never see him again!’  She said

We ran to Soho Square and smoked a Marlborough light sat on a concrete step.

Then realised we had left my Irish friend and HER date in the pub with dressing face man.

Dressing face man then texted with

‘ I’m off xx ’

If someone clearly leaves you like that and doesn’t return…. Why would you text them?! Ever again?!

Is running away not a clear enough indication that they are not interested?!

The next day he sent another text

‘ Any more date’s lined up this week? x ’

I didn’t answer.

The effeminate fraggle creature, which I find strangely attractive, invited me out again the next week to an attractive female friends party. I wondered this time whether he would stay longer.

I told him about a new 6 foot black guy I had just been on a lunch date with that afternoon (I wont go into this as nothing interesting happened apart from he was and is VERY very hot. So hot its ridiculous )

The effeminate fraggle creature told me about the only person he had loved. This wasn’t his current girlfriend. This made me annoyed. And sad. And kind of jealous. All in a one moment. How is that possible?  Very odd.

We danced and I felt stupid. Which I never do cos I can dance. I can dance Good.

There were some IT looking, very middle class kids in a circle doing one of those dance off’s…. The effeminate creature barged in to the middle of the circle with his fraggle hair flowing and danced …… and of course…… they loved him. This was irritating as that what I should have done. Instead I danced at the side like a knob ginning.

The night progressed to Dalston were we picked up another one of his stylish attractive successful female friends in a cab. This was getting ridiculous! They seemed very close.

I got lumbered with a fellow Manc at the bar who was off his tits on EVERY drug that has ever been created and kept trying to pass me some under my bar stool . I should have taken it… by this point it was 4am and the effeminate creature was joined at the hip with his attractive female friend.

I should have taken the drugs. But instead I left and got a sweaty kebab and chips and humus and pita and helium on the way home. ( claiming to the Turkish guy serving that my boyfriend was in bed and has sent me out. I even had a fake phone call with the fake boyfriend)

I should have taken the drugs.

The effeminate creature invited me out again this week. To see a band in angel. He said I may fancy his ‘good looking’ friend Deano. I told him I felt too fat to leave the house, and especially for the area of angel ….. I could have maybe dealt with seeing a band in Tottenham or Peckham but I was defiantly too fat for a cool gypsy dirge type band near angel. He told me to send him some pics of how fat I was. So I did. He told me I was pushing my belly out . and also that Deano liked fat chicks.

So I put my fat pants on and left.

The effeminate creature wasn’t giving me any attention again and Deano wasn’t hot. So naturally I filled them in about the ridiculously 6.6 fit black guy who turns out to be a helicopter pilot with a private jet!  Seriously.

The band was good. The lead singer looked like Hugh Jackman. I danced drunken beginners swing with him. He was good. But it was beginning to dawn on me

I Like the effeminate fraggle creature male. And more than a Hugh Jack man lookalike who is the front man of a rock band??!!!. What is WRONG with me?!

I told you I was in trouble.

Reasons why liking the effeminate fraggle creature is not good

  1. I think that he may leave me for will young if we got together ( he admitted that he has a man rush on him. yuk!)
  2. I think that he is better than me and I dislike being with anyone who is
  3. I think his ex girlfriend maybe prettier than me, have bigger breasts and own better clothes. They are always breaking up and getting back together. Not good.
  4. He will be a much better and much more successful comic than I will ever be
  5. If I stop dating I may get fat
  6. He may want me to wear a strap on one day
  7. He has lots of very attractive female friends, which may make me act like a baby.
  8. He has major potential to be a contender for ‘the one’ which is a reason in itself not to pursue. but also ;

A)   he isn’t rich. ( I would have to work)

B)   Isn’t black. ( no giant cocks. Or beautiful mixed race babies )

C)   Couldn’t beat up anyone. let alone a male intruder

I crumbled towards the end of the night.

I turned to him and said (whilst looking like i was in pain and also trying to stick my little tits out, because stupidly I hadn’t worn a padded bra)

‘ I think i……….like you’

he smiled and said

‘ you only like me because I don’t like you….

…..plus you’ve shown no interest in me! ’

I told him that despite being out of work as an actress for over 7 months that in fact I’m very good at it. And suddenly I realised that maybe this was true. As long as there is no script involved. I AM very good. But unfortunately there usually is.

I can’t remember what happened after that. I have flashes. One is us;

squirting water in each other mouths and laughing.

Then us kissing at a bus stop.

Then me touching his thin delicate fraggle hair.

Naturally I went on date number 2 with the 6 foot black pilot the next night. We ate fish in Chelsea and had £23 each champagne cocktails in Sloan square. All I could think of was 50 shades of grey. Lets call him Mr grey.

That and how The conversation was hard work. But his face and the free dinner and drinks made up for it.

effeminate fraggle creature was texting me throughout the evening. He invited me to join him….. and …….. yes friends…. In east London. I slurred my excuses and left mr grey.

£35 pounds later and I’m back in the company of the effeminate fraggle. The taxi driver commented on how I had down graded from the very hansom man who had put me in the taxi cab to the effeminate fraggle male who had taken me out.

CUT TO; The next day.

We were still dressed. From the night before. and in my bed. Kinda cuddling. I attempted a blow job. It didn’t quite work out. He attempted to but his hand in my knickers. I resisted. As I wasn’t trimmed up enough to let  an effeminate fraggle creature pass judgment on that area.

We went out and had breakfast. and took my dog for a walk in the park.

He made me laugh allot.

He held my hand.

He stroked my upper arms. ( ive never been so happy that I exfoliated my upper arms in my fuckin life)

I started to try and do my 5 minute set in front of him. As he has never seen it before. It went wrong. Like one of those stories that’s ends in ‘ you just had to be there…. It was soooooo funny’

 

This is why I never date people that I think are better than me. They are intimating and I start to behave like someone else. Someone unfunny. someone annoying. Someone who I don’t like.

I’ve spent all today thinking about the effeminate fraggle . I keep replaying his smile that turns into a laugh like a clip from a Julia Roberts rom com in my mind. He has THE best smile into laugh I have ever seen. Ever.

On a fraggle

These feelings may be because he never texted Saturday night . or this maybe because I really like effeminate fraggle creature male

Either way I’m in trouble!

Either way it feels like a trap.

Either way I have found a new website . . . .

Its called ‘Whats.your.price’ and guys bid for a date with you. You get paid for dating?! This is surely the dream job right?

You meet in a public place. Get dinner bought for you and get cash for sitting opposite a lonely 40 something in a suit who has a face like a bull.

This is my moral justification for entering into ‘Whats.your.price’ world….

I’m poor. I’m single.

Plus I think I’m in trouble regarding feelings for the effeminate fraggle.

It’s a fucking fraggle trap . and I AM NOT FALLING into it.

Tonight I’m meeting a bull faced 43 year old for £150 cash.

UN necessary drama

Un- necessary drama… that’s what a recent male friend said that I should call my non existent Edinburgh show. It kinda sums it all up. UN necessary.

That male friend and me just had a non break up break up…. Don’t you just hate thows??! … when your not actually together but u break up anyway. We had had a few drunken kisses over the course of a 6 months in-between lots of hanging out and a bit of bed hugging. He said he wanted more and couldn’t just be ‘friends’. I even had tears in my eyes…but….. I still didn’t want to be his girlfriend. I really didn’t. I wish I did. I prefer black men with massive arms that ask you what your favourite colour is on a date. They look pretty and their place is clear. Bed sheets.

The male friend that I just didn’t break up with is called Bernard ( no names are EVER changed in this anonymous blog BTW)  I will miss Bernard. He was very Sweet. Very deep And very Jewish. He talked too much. And I liked cutting him off and insulting him with a smile, I think he liked it too. He was passionate about things that annoy him. I’m passionate about things that I hate. We also did things in unison like bursting out laughing as a girl ordered ‘ an indian tea’ in a café in Tuffnell park. An indian fuckin tea?/!!

I will miss him. He believed in me. Or believed he would somehow end up in-between my thighs if he ‘believed’ in me. Either way. He believed in me. I will miss Bernard.

And so life goes on. People come and go don’t they?! I hate that. I really do. Maybe its more so in London town. Or just more so with the opposite sex?  I want people to stay forever…….

apart from my family. They can leave.

My mum was asking how my stand up had been going the other day. I said ‘ yeah really good’

she sounded surprised.

‘is it very cutting edge?’ she says in a voice that I swear is getting slower and more religious/judgmental as the months go by

‘errrrrrrr I dunno, not really mum’ I said

Pause

‘Its sort of a puppet show’ I said

she comes straight in with …

‘ is it characterisation?’

That doesn’t make any sense. Does it?! ‘Characterisation…. Of who?! and she didn’t go on to ask . Im still trying to work it out.

‘eeerrrrr …..yeah. ‘ I said

and that was that.

It was easier than going into what the ‘puppet show’ was actually about, which is about ……masturbating in bed whilst your ex boyfriend reads reviews on new blackberry phone models on his laptop next to you, blow jobs with strange cocaine addicted Scottish actors, ‘fuck lists’

This puppet show is called  ‘ And the cunt left me’ i’m not sure she is really to see this yet. But it’s my uncle’s 60th this weekend and i’ve said i would do my 5 mins as the entertainment. I wish i could invite Bernard for moral support.

I will miss him. He could have been my new parent. But then who wants to fuck their parent. That was the problem … I only ever wanted to cuddle him. for hours.

and so the search continues….. but ‘its about the journey and not the destination‘ right?!!

lets all be sick in that persons face

Online dating… the beginning

I have a friend. ( i’m lucky)
We are talking about online dating . He turns to me and says
‘If I see one more photo with someone kissing a dolphin, I’m going to smash my head against this pint glass and eat the broken glass slowly’ I laughed loudly ( as I do that. Its really Annoying, I know. I’m looking into a new laugh )
He then showed me his what’s app with many MANY conversations with potential dates. I sighed ‘ Its hard work isn’t it’ He agreed but then smiled as he told me about a polish women with massive tits who he was going to meet that Saturday night.

I’ve only been online dating 3 weeks. Ive been single 10 months. The last guy broke my heart. Well, smashed it actually.I still find shards in my back yard. rotting.

But everything happens for a reason right?!!

The first online dating guy was hot…. He was even Facebook hot. I got carried away with the fantasy of this farm boy/man with floppy dark hair and tattoos and had a bit of text sex. Yes I know I know…. I hadn’t even met this guy or even spoke to him on the phone, ( MISTAKE) but I was lonely and kind of horney and he was there. On text.

We met.

He was deaf. Which I could of seen past. But his voice sounded like Alan partridge ….and a Depressed Alan partridge. And wen someone calls you ‘babe’ in a depressed bristolian sounding Alan partridge voice it makes you feel on edge. And your clitoris recoils and tries to find a place to hide.

The next guy also looked great… he was funny…. On text ( which I’m learning is no indication of anything) and he was a director. Im an actress. He’s a director. Result!
His hands were small. Way too small for his body. And defiantly too small for his head. We ate sushi in Soho. Then went to the theatre. I wanted to get away as I knew those hands could not make me happy. I had one drink with him after the show. He kissed me and I went with it cos I have low self esteem and thought that I at least owed him that because he had paid for everything. It felt like kissing a head. I had blocked all that was below it out. I said I was going to get a cab, he said we should share as we were going the same way. He ran into a cab place in Soho. And I ran. Away.

All the way to Camden to meet date number 3. Ok so please don’t judge. I know it was harsh, but I panicked and im shit at faking real emotion. Contrary to being a very talented actress. plus I wanted more free cocktails. Just not with his…. ……….Head.

Personal trainer man was number 3. He came With a body that should have been in 300.

I meet him outside a club. Its late. He’s with his friends. we decide to grab a late night drink. As we walk i say ‘ your not that tall’ . I know. What a shit thing to say. It was some kind of messed up banter. This set the tone unfortunately. The banter was great, but kinda messed up. Both of us trying to ‘neg ‘ the other. ‘neggin’ is a term men use that some guy created in a book he wrote about men’s dating. Its when you put someone down in order to get them to like you. It must have worked , cos I was sat on his lap after 1 hour. The cocktails may have helped. He kept saying i thought I was great and had a big head…… which was ironic given where/who I had just come from!

Then……. he called me a ‘cunt’
Yep.
I left.

He texted me at 5am saying ‘ you are perfect’
I didn’t agreed to a second date. On the basis that he had called me a cunt on the first. He then wrote

‘well,you were acting like one xx but I do like you’

This Sunday I am going ‘shuuuush’ dating. A silent dating evening in Camden.

I can not wait.