Wine Me, Dine Me, Woo Me, Screw Me.

Ahh another Valentine’s Day, another year older, another year single. This time last year I was about to start dating ‘Columbus’ the retail manager with emotional issues which fell apart in a matter of weeks when he freaked out about his own need to call me his girlfriend. This year as per usual I am single but with a crush, and as per usual he has no idea that I exist which while slightly sad is just the way I like it. It means I don’t have to face the normal reality of him not being interested, or even more frightening the fact he could maybe possibly in some small way find me attractive which would make me poo my pants and run away and hide.

This limbo means when I see him striding about the base in his boiler suit looking like Ben Affleck in Armageddon but hotter and French I get to imagine that I’m Liv Tyler. In my head I do a slow motion run down the jetty to my sea soaked hero returning from saving the planet. Naturally we have a lingering kiss to whoops and cheers from the assembled crowd, some of whom are waving flags in excitement. He scoops me into his arms (because obviously I weigh about 10 stone and am able to be picked up) and we head off into the sunset to get married and have Long Tall French babies.

Every time he breezes through reception and shoots me a glance with his big green eyes I melt like a chocolate fireguard. I’m yet to hear him say my name however I’m scared that when he does I’ll spontaneously combust, he could recite the shipping forecast and it would still cause my stomach to flip like a pancake. I’m dying to talk to him but other than a cheery ‘Good Morning’ along with my best smile I’ve made no contact. I sat and spent an entirely mute lunchtime with him the other day, he was busy talking in French to another colleague and I was too shy to interrupt. It’s a sorry state of affairs really.

This Valentine’s Day is just another day for me so tonight instead of being wined, dined, wooed and screwed I plan on eating cupboard for dinner so I can avoid the indignity of going to Tesco’s on this, the most romantic day of the year (supposedly). I’m going to dye my hair and then spend some time with my current love (my new cosmetics storage) before getting an early night with a book and maybe even a hot chocolate. I am nothing if not wild and debauched.


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