I’d managed to get Cupid’s back up and now he was threatening to make me a lesbian. Sure I could have changed my password and locked him out but actually I was having such fun I was quite content to let him do his worst. Well maybe not his WORST. One thing is for sure, his flirting technique could use a little work but at least we were on the same page when it came to illegal substances. Just say no – you hear that Zammo?
When Cupid found out I’d given my phone number to a gent I’d been chatting to on another website he started to get ideas above his station, going as far as asking if I’d given the fella his number so he could play along too. His explanation for that was because he’s ‘helpful’, and having looked at the questions he’d been merrily answering on my behalf, I was beginning to see what his idea of being helpful was…
And yet somehow, even with him fannying around behind the scenes trying to ‘help’ me find a man, the messages started to come in.
Cupid was rather indignant that someone could cast aspersions on ‘our’ (but really his, he answered the Romeo question!) knowledge of 16th Century English and so replied in what I’m learning was typical Cupid like fashion, and yes, he did just tell me off AGAIN for referring to it as ‘my’ type:
Cupid and I stumbled across a profile from someone claiming to be happily married, err what now? Happily married and on a dating site? Do me a favour. Well Cupid didn’t think much of ‘Mr Happily Married’ and what he claimed to be looking for, or who I thought he looked like.
And then he played his trump card – his ability to message anyone he chooses whilst passing himself off as me.