This evening the local shopkeeper made a pass at me. At least I think he did, it might have been a while since my last rendez-vous with the opposite sex but even someone as socially inept as me can recognize when a man is trying to get into my M&S cotton panties. I’m not sure whether it was my decision to go to the shop bra-less but apparently ‘Sam’ the shopkeeper was really digging the ‘prepubescent girl who makes questionable hair choices’ look.
Like with any male between the ages of 19 and 35 my vagina immediately went into lock down mode as soon as he uttered the word “hello.” Nerves took over and my hands started to vigorously shake as the pressure to impress someone I’d normally rank as a 5/10 took over: I’m sure he smelt my desperation a mile off. After the surprising success of our initial interaction he preceded to mention how lucky my boyfriend was to be dating someone who looks so youthful and how he wanted to “make me feel special”.
At last my decision to dress like a 13 year old boy is working in my favour: apparently there really is someone out there for just about everyone.