Unintindered Rest Day

Happy Anniversary to this post. Wow: have come A Long Way from here…

Scars, Tears and Training Bras

So, it’s been almost three weeks of Tindering and the initial excitement is starting to wear off, to be replaced by some reflective thoughts and a lull in the action.

Watching and tweeting and writing over Wimbledon fortnight is pretty much a full time job. In some ways it was a relief that yesterday’s chap cancelled (he’d double booked: I could hardly make a fuss about him seeing his six year old nephew instead of me). Unfortunately what could’ve been a relaxing day became clogged up with a meeting with a potential flatmate and then a surprise visit from a married male chum, his wife and squalling infants.

“Why are you wearing a Dennis the Menace wig?” Dave my old friend says when he arrives.
“I’m not. This is my real hair,” I say. “Do you really think I’d pay for a wig that looks like this?” I say, feeling…

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