I need a huge rush of pleasure. A delicious takeout? A day of purposeful laziness? A tax-refund gift-to-myself splurge? Or, you might be inclined to respond, “Sex? I am correct. You require sex.” But it’s cool, I’ve gone this long, my fear of covid peaked, stabilized, and now in our third lockdown, has circled back to heightened precautions because long-haul covid sounds downright horrifying. PinkCherry satisfied me with their early-pandemic “You must be clawing the walls” promo codes, so now I’m just waiting for the post-pandemic era of STIs galore. The wild west of urban singles with sorely-battered communication skills meetcute’ing freshly quarantine-divorced possibilities who had to move back from the farmland property they pandemic-purchased with their former sweetie amidst their WFH productivity-peak wonderland. The mismatches, the desperation, it’ll be a thing of wonder, sprinkled in fairy dust.
“Why don’t you hop on the apps and try video-dating?” I don’t know, why don’t you go eat your own butt. I don’t know, I’m barely in the state of mind to handle someone asking me how I’m doing, let alone the steady stream of conversational opening lines from seemingly well-adjusted members of society with respectable answers in the Occupation field (something besides mysteriously-douchey “entrepreneur”) very seriously inquiring about my experiences and, if so, my desire to reacquaint with anal.
Good job, boys. With that level of confidence and assuredness of your preferences, I’m positive you’ll find a partner to fit your every need. Why it’s the ones who are straightforward with their needs and wants that grab it all in this world. Modesty and shyness are a thing of the past. Why can’t I learn that already.