Nut Allergy

A slightly salacious theme for today. The joys of Internet Dating to be precise. It’s something I can do outwith the scrutiny of my own social group. And quite deliberately so. I’d need to know myself that someone was not a total dick before subjecting them to the gauntlet of other people’s opinions. I form my own opinions left to myself. And I like it like that. But internet dating is a double edged blade. There is less safety perhaps and almost any idiot is free to contact you, if you put yourself out there. And that I have, to an extent. So far I can divide men online into mostly two groups. Perfect gentleman magicians who do fantastic text and then disappear in a puff of smoke when they realise you will only meet in public. And then there are complete morons who equate my being Trans with being a desperate slut. For the record, I am not remotely desperate. But I’ve still persevered, on and off, in the belief there will be someone out there in the market for a ropey opinionated transsexual. It takes all sorts they say. There is a third group, the kind I want to meet. If only to assess whether there’s any real potential. I come into contact with those the most rarely but it’s hardly a barrier to happiness. Surprisingly, the best thing about internet dating has been platonic contact, often from women but sometimes from supportive straight men. It’s chiefly this that convinces me to keep giving it a go as there are decent people out there. Until then I can just order calendars of Firemen from Amazon. At least then I can be confident that some day my prints will come.

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