I don't want to be that person but I will - not long until Christmas, guys!
I’m doing well this year. I’ve got most of my shopping done so I can relax and, heaven forbid, actually enjoy it this year.
I was really chuffed with myself. I’d planned ahead and reduced the threat of ending up skint over December.
I was expecting a high-five from my friend but instead all I got was: "That’s good. It’ll be cheaper for you this Christmas seeing you don’t have a boyfriend to buy for."
Ouch. Was she being sarcastic or was she genuinely upset that she had a doting other half that lavished her with gifts and she would have to return the favour?
I gazed sadly at the woollen reindeer stocking I bought myself to hang over the fireplace and, realising that all it would hold this year would be crude, home-made cards from my kids and a handful of icy grass (no flowers to pick in winter), I began to sob.
Even if it was just for the festive period, I needed a man. I needed perfume, roses, diamonds and some smellies that I could re-gift to my BFF.
Fraught I turned to my uber BFF, the internet.
I decided to take the plunge and advertise the fact that I was desperate on a dating site.
I selected a well-known site. To avoid any legal implications we will call it ‘loads of whales’.
True, I had been mistaken for a killer whale at the beach once so this name seemed perfect.
I started trawling through my photos in the hope of finding a killer profile pic that would leave the hot men drooling (as opposed to the not-so-hot-ones who just salivate a lot).
There were loads of pictures of me crying or eating, some doing both.
There was a picture of me asleep with a bad word scrawled on my forehead (thanks, little bro), and what looked like me screaming in Matalan whilst clutching a blouse.
It wasn’t even like I could take another pic. I was bunged up to the max with a cold and my lips were so chapped I was licking them every two seconds for some relief whilst simultaneously making them worse. On the upside they were so red it looked like I had perfect lipstick.
I settled with a picture of me from 2011. Sure, I was 100lbs lighter, a lot younger and my hair was in its healthy, pre-bleach phase but it was still me on the inside.
My friend said I was setting myself up to go on the show Catfish but I just hoped men weren’t really that shallow. How naïve was I?
I went ‘active’ and NO-ONE was messaging me or liking my pictures. What the...?! I looked so attractive six years ago!
Eventually a semi-okay dude messaged me and offered to take me out for a meal.
He wasn’t originally from round here so it made sense - he obviously wasn’t familiar with me.
Our date was on Tuesday. I’m still sat in Wetherspoons now, waiting.
I did see a guy stroll in, look at me then leave, but I’m sure that wasn’t him.
If it was, he must’ve gone to pick up my Miss Dior. I’ll give it another hour.
After all, I do want my Christmas pressie.
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