Bollocks to dating, I’m packing it in.
After nearly ten months of being back on the dating scene I’m officially bored. I must have spent over a grand on it. I’ve wasted countless hours meeting people who after five minutes I never wanted to see again.
Dating fatigue has set in, the Tinder profile has gone, the app has been deleted. I’m going into a dating cocoon. I’m planning on emerging from my chrysalis later in the year, hopefully with bigger arms and less debt.
I’m out for my birthday on Saturday. It’s an excuse to wear my legendary silver trousers. I bought them in Camden in the late 1990s just before my first ever Bowie gig. They have been a cherished possession ever since.
I’ll be celebrating the big 2-6 at an indie club in Hackney. Maybe the trousers will give me an edge, maybe I’ll meet someone in person and not through an app, maybe we’ll snog on the dance floor as they play suede.
I can’t believe it has been a year since I last turned 26, it feels like longer.
Anyway, See yaz