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)
‘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.
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.
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