I’m always banging on about how hard is to meet good men, but what I really find is that it’s actually quite hard to find any men at all, apart from online. I’d say I’m a relatively good looking woman and I’ve got a slightly above average body. I’m one of those girls where you would probably either find me either really unattractive or think I’m sensationally stunning. There’s no in between. I get attention from men wherever I go, mainly because of the body I think. Big boobs and bum have that effect. Men make comments under their breath or to their mates about my body, this happens every single day. They don’t approach me, they just make their sexual desires clear.
I like it in one very small way because it confirms for me that I look good, but it mainly makes me feel uncomfortable and objectified, violated and conscious of myself. I would never talk to these type of men. My soulmate would not make lewd comments to, or overtly ogle at, random women on the streets, he would approach them respectfully. Men simply don’t seem to respectfully approach me any more at all.
When I was in my early twenties, before social media, I would get chatted up everywhere, cars would pull up beside me on the streets, or guys would stop me in Tescos. I think it was like this for everyone back then. You just sort of met people. That does not happen to me anymore. I never, ever, get directly approached, anywhere. Except for festivals. I cannot only have one 3 month period of every year where there is a window for meeting men, this is not OK. Sometimes I question whether I’m actually as buff as I think I am, and I worry that maybe my looks have fallen off now that I’m 35 and that’s why I don’t get stopped. Maybe everyone else is out there still getting chirpsed in Tescos and it’s just me (although I do shop in Waitrose now and there’s less of a chirpsing vibe in there).
They say that one of the best places to meet people is at work but this has only happened for me once in my life. I’ve been at my current job for over 10 years. I work for a charity and it’s very female dominated. In all the years I’ve worked there I’ve only seen one good looking man – Jamie. I first noticed him at an annual general meeting a year or two ago. He worked in a different department to me and I hadn’t seen him around before but fucking hell, once I spotted him he was pretty much all I could think about. This guy was really bloody hot. I’d fallen out of love with my career and I was trying to find ways of enjoying going to work and making myself feel positive about it and the Universe sent Jamie.
Getting ready for work became infinitely more stressful as I wanted to look like a professional buff ting everyday. I love my colleagues and so I was totally open with them about my feelings for Jamie. I wanted to sit on this man’s face as often as possible on a long term basis for the foreseeable future, and so they did everything they could to gather info on him. We established that he was single and had a daughter. I liked this information.
Another bonus point was that he smoked, not only because this meant that we started talking in the smoking area, but it also meant that we had something in common. Smoking is disgusting, I hate it, and I’m constantly giving up every Monday, but I have to say that it is pretty important common ground to have. I feel a bit self-conscious if I date non-smokers, mainly because of the smell. Every time I give up, the smokers around me smell absolutely vile, I wouldn’t want to subject a non-smoker to that. I believe that you should date within your smoking status if possible, especially weed smokers, because it’s a lifestyle as well as a habit. Smoking is rank, but a bit of black lung was worth it in order to get talking to the sexiest man that I had seen during the hours of 9-5 since I had started my job all those years ago.
And so we became smoking buddies. We’d e-mail each other to go for fag breaks and we got on well when we were out there. He was a little raver like me, same age, same musical tastes, same interests, lots of common ground, especially because we worked together. I was fully interested but he was showing me no signals whatsoever, he was treating me like Mandem and I was thoroughly not feeling it. We both had annual leave on the same week but we hadn’t really discussed what either of us were doing. I was going to Wireless Festival with my best mate Ella and I had a week off after for recovery.
Ella and I were off our tits at Wireless, absolutely mangled. We hadn’t been out for a while, it was hot, we were in VIP, and we hadn’t paid for tickets. We were feeling ourselves and having a blast. We went to watch an act on the main stage and there I bumped into Jamie, I was fucking delighted, it was literally the icing on the top of an already very good day. Jamie is tall, probably 6ft 3 or 4. Mixed race, really nice golden coloured skin. He’s got a great face, very classically handsome. The type who anyone would think was good looking, regardless of their usual type. Apart from his clothes. I discovered at Wireless that Jamie has a rather less than attractive sense of festival style.
He was wearing an extra-large mustard coloured T-shirt, it almost looked like a nightie, the front was shorter than the back. I think Kanye might have inspired this bullshit. He had paired this with some black jeggings, black plimsolls, and a black wooden beaded necklace shaped like Africa with a matching set of beaded bracelets. I was really not feeling this look but I had been feeling Jamie for so long and I was so wasted that I was willing to put it to one side.
Jamie’s friend was looking equally as snazzy. Winston didn’t look Black but you could tell that he was because he was called Winston. He looked more Samoan. He was massively over pumped, quite possibly on steroids. He was hench but not in a good way. He was quite short so he looked stocky with no neck and his arms rested uncomfortably away from his body because of his huge biceps, he looked like he was slightly sticking his arms out at all times.
Winston thought he looked wonderful. He was wearing one of those low cut V neck vests that expose a lot of pec and a bit of waxed nipple. Those V-neck t-shirts and vests are like a repellent to me. I find them so incredibly unattractive. Winston had a lot of ingrown hairs proudly exposed on his over inflated, freshly plucked chest, but all of that paled in comparison to his relaxed hair. I just really cannot deal with Black men with relaxed hair. There’s nothing good I can say so I’m going to just leave it there. Winston adored himself. And good on him. I fully promote self-love, I just cannot deal with that confusing hair.
Jamie and I introduced Ella and Winston and we all walked together away from the stage. Jamie told me that they had lost their drugs and I said that Ella had loads and I was sure that she wouldn’t mind sharing. She didn’t. We all sat down somewhere relatively secluded on the grass and started chatting and getting on it. Winston was very sweet in some ways but also quite full on. Very over familiar and constantly saying stuff like:
‘You’re a good girl you know that, I can read energies and your aura is everything, I can feel good people you know, I’m accurate every time. I’m a spiritual guy you know. I don’t look deep do I, I look like some big tough guy but I’m not babe. You should let me give you reiki healing, I can touch your energies’
He kept grabbing my hand and trying to read my palms. I was mash up and it was too much. You know when a guy clearly wants to fuck you but he’s trying to do it in a spiritual way because he thinks that’s more respectful. I wanted to let him know that actually no, I don’t think anyone thinks you’re a tough guy, you look like a camp mix between Aston and Oritse from JLS on steroids. He quite clearly fancied me and this was annoying me because I didn’t want Jamie to think that he couldn’t step on his friend’s toes. I needn’t have worried though because after a while Jamie made it clear that he only likes Black girls, sometimes mixed race, but mainly Black.
I’m essentially White, I have dark brown hair and whitish skin, but my background is mixed up, neither of my parents are from an English background but they were both born in London, English was my Mum’s second language. I won’t tell you my mix because it’s quite distinctive but there’s no Black involved, perhaps somewhere down the line of my Middle Eastern ancestors you’d find a link but not enough of one for me to pass as anything other than a White woman and so I had no chance with Jamie. He made that quite clear. Ella’s Dad is Black and her Mum is mixed race, she’s very pretty, gorgeous skin with light hazel coloured eyes, and you could tell that Jamie found her attractive from the off, but she’s married and so he respectfully maintained that boundary.
This is not how it went in my daydreams about Jamie at all. I was really disappointed but I couldn’t begrudge him, I know what it’s like when you’ve got a type. You like what you like. I still fancied him though. We all came up together on the MDMA that we had taken and we started to feel like a group of really close friends. Winston was only slightly annoying me now and I could just about cope with his constant psychic readings so I enjoyed being with them. It was nice to have a little crew. The only annoying thing was that Jamie was completely blind to the fact that I fancied him and he clearly didn’t fancy me so he continued to treat me like one of the lads and pointed out every sexy looking Black woman he could see. I didn’t want to feel like a dick head so I just went along with it and even started pointing out good looking girls that he might like to him.
Jamie told us that his Mum was white and his Dad was a British born Jamaican, he was raised by his Mum but he was close to his Dad. He had never visited Jamaica though so I found it odd that he kept speaking in a Jamaican accent. As the day wore on it became evident that Jamie was very into the Black side of his culture, he refused to eat anything unless it was from the Caribbean food stall, he was very vocal about that, and he spent a long time talking about Black political issues in a Jamaican accent, this was jarring me. As much as that’s an interesting and important topic, it’s not exactly my first choice for festival conversations. I was mashed and I just wanted to dance and flirt. I didn’t want to talk about people being unlawfully killed by Police. It was the wrong place and the wrong time. I’m not one to bury my head in the sand about important issues but there’s a time and a place and Wireless festival is not that place.
I don’t know if Jamie was inspired by Kanye’s performance at Wireless that time when he made a long speech about the civil rights movement, but Jamie was firmly sticking to his theme for the day and it felt like absolutely everything boiled down to race. Ella was getting sick of it too, she wanted to have fun and not stress about the shit that her forefather’s had gone through, she just wanted to rave, but Jamie just couldn’t seem to stop.
At one point a tune came on at the main stage and I suggested that we all run down to catch the performance. We ran together from the top of the hill right down into the crowd, it made me buzz so hard, the sun was coming down, me and Ella were holding hands and it felt like the perfect festival moment. Until Jamie bounded along beside us and started shouting ‘BLACK LIVES MATTER’ at the top of his voice.
A few other people picked up on this and Jamie was obviously feeling his role as an inspirational community leader and so he kept on shouting, louder and louder until a small crowd had gathered around him and had joined in with him shouting ‘BLACK LIVES MATTER, BLACK LIVES MATTER’. I think this was his way of attracting women. Ella found this hilarious so she joined in too. Winston was off trying to read some Chinese chick’s aura and I was just stood there feeling like a dickhead so I grudgingly started shouting too, as the only White person in our little crowd I couldn’t exactly be the only one to boycott this spontaneous anti-racism demonstration.
I mean, Black lives do matter, they really do, and it’s a fight that we must all continue to fight. But do we really have to have a fucking protest at Wireless festival? Nobody here is doing anything racist, we are here preaching to the converted. It was so pointless and it was a bit embarrassing. The people who had joined in were doing it for banter, but for Jamie this was a proud moment. I think he Snapchatted it.
The festival finished and we were all still waved, none of us wanted the night to end and so we decided to go on to a bar in Finsbury Park. As we were walking out of Wireless Jamie put his arm around me. I still really fancied him, I’d lusted after him for months at work and I’d had a million day dreams about what a great couple we would be and how easy it would be for him to stay at mine on weeknights, so his arm around my shoulder felt like an exciting moment. He said:
‘You are really sexy for a White girl you know, in fact I don’t actually think you are White. I think you are gorgeous. You are not like other White people in how you think. Not just your body but your mind. I’d say that you are clear. Not White, not Black but clear. I find you really attractive.’
I was extremely surprised by this, I was actually quite honoured that he found me attractive, but I also found what he said to be slightly offensive. I’m White. That’s it. It dictates how I look and how I am perceived by society but the person who I am and how I think is not dictated by my skin colour alone, my skin colour has probably influenced some of my experiences but it does not guide how I think as a whole. I am me and I think the way that I think because of my life story so far. You don’t have to detach me from my race in order for you to accept me as an attractive and sexy person.
My dark skin friends get this all the time ‘you’re so pretty for a dark skin girl’ and it’s fucking disgustingly rude. It suggests that most dark skinned girls are not pretty, which is of course absolute bollocks. If someone is pretty they are pretty, prejudiced views about race should not come into it. They should not come into anything. I did not like being ‘pretty for a white girl’ but I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t face another discussion on race issues and I was also pretty excited that he fancied me.
We had a great time at the bar where we continued drinking. After a couple of hours Ella was getting tired and she wanted to see her Husband so she decided to call it a day. Jamie and I had been holding hands while we were sat next to each other on a couch talking endlessly. We were both physically exhausted and wanted to kick back and smoke some weed so when Jamie suggested that we do that at his place I was happy. Winston had met two Polish girls in the bar and he wanted to stay there putting spells on them so it was just me and Jamie.
I was comfortable with Jamie and after we’d got out of the festival he seemed to be more like the person I had got to know on our smoking breaks. I think there were just so many hot Black women at Wireless that the testosterone went to his head and he went into Black Panther mode. We got back to his place and without over thinking it we both just decided to have a shower together, we hadn’t even kissed before we saw each other completely naked. You do that kind of stuff when you’re buzzing. We felt dirty from the day and it felt natural to just get in together. Once we were naked under the hot running water things did get sexual. He had a nice dick. Because of the height difference (I’m 5ft 3), it felt like his dick was right near my face but I didn’t suck it. I was conscious of not doing too much because of the fact that we worked together. We kissed and washed each other, he paid particular attention to cleaning certain areas of my body but it remained fairly innocent.
Once we got out we lounged around naked smoking weed and coming down from our buzz. I lay next to him and he stroked my bum ‘you’ve got a bum like a Black girl Layla, it’s unbelievable, I feel like I’m here with a Black woman’. Here we go again….. I ignored his comment but I knew in the back of my mind that this was never going to go anywhere. He fancied me now, probably just because I happened to be there and he wanted buzzing company, but I knew that I was never going to be the one that he settled with because he’d always be looking over his shoulder at Black women. He was even pretending I was Black now so that he could enjoy himself more.
I was disheartened and I wanted to go home but Jamie started going down on me and so I thought I’d better stay until that was over. It didn’t last for long. Jamie has not fully developed his pussy eating skills yet and it was a painful and awkward 4 minutes. Jamie was biting, literally teeth clamped biting down on my clit. I would jerk in pain and tell him to stop every time he did it but he took my cries for him to stop as encouragement that I wanted him to continue. He was biting my pussy lips and clit endlessly like some kind of rabies infested Alsatian and eventually I had to push his head out of the way and tell him that I was not feeling it. Jamie looked hurt so I came up with some excuse about thinking it was a bad idea because of work. He accepted that and I called a cab home. We see each other occasionally in the smoking area now but we’ve never mentioned that night since and nobody at work knows about it. We are friends on Snapchat and I often watch his videos and cringe, especially when he’s speaking in a Jamaican accent doing stuff like walking through some woods shouting ‘INNA DI BUMBACLART FORESSSSSSSSSSSST’.
And so that was my one and only office romance, I wouldn’t rule out meeting people at work but I definetely think there are risks involved. Things could get messy or awkward and it could all end in tears. So that’s another potential man meeting place ticked off the list. I’m not stressed about it all. I know that the one will just randomly appear when he’s supposed to and that I don’t need to search for him. He’s taking his sweet time though ffs.