“You sound and look exotic from what I can see of you?” a Tinder message flashes up. It’s a Bright Young Thing, Howie, aged 28. His eyes-wide-mouth-open profile photo showcases white, even teeth and a great tan. He’s from New Zealand.
“If that one just wants casual sexuals you’ve only got yourself to blame, Tanya,” I can hear Suzie’s voice in my head as I gaze at his photo. “Look at his expression, the silly striped glasses, look at the nightclub setting, look at the bottle of beer he’s brandishing in his hand and – seriously – look at his deep-v-neck black t-shirt! It’s ridiculous.”
This is all true of course but I like his big smile and his friendly, open gaze. And his obvious body-confidence: he’s sporting shorts in most of his photos. He looks young, fresh and uncomplicated.
“Thank you, but I am not exotic,” I message back.
“Even though your (sic) not exotic hah we should catch up sometimes. I need to run round/up Hampstead Heath anyways,” he writes back.
“Yeah. Come and run around my dinosaurs,” I reply.
We move the conversation to What’s App and the banter flows back and forth.
I realise that it’s late, really late.
“I have to go to bed, my boys are waiting,” I message him, enclosing a photo of some of my fluffy animals sitting on my bed. “It’s quite hot and furry in my bed.”
“Such anticipation” he texts back.
“Really? You fancy my glyptodon? That’s Gerald.”
“Not as much as the 35 year old who sleeps with him,” he responds.
I wonder what a normal number of stuffed toys is for a 35 year old to have on their bed. Probably two or three, rather than my twenty or so.
Was on Woman’s Hour today talking about my cancer. It was great fun but felt a bit deflated after so went to see the tiger cubs at the zoo. They were all sleeping up a tree together :).
Treated myself to a fluffy Slow Loris. He is quite fat with chunky legs but am going to love him a lot 🙂