But my friend Michael has intervened where he normally does not. He text me one day saying I have a little admirer…ok, you’ve got my attention, I’m in a place where I want to know again, I’m in a place where I’m not so scared, for some reason I trusted him. It is a new girl, the ‘Saturday girl’ that works in his shop…now I frequent the sunbed quite often and cant remember her, so I take a visit within days of getting that text…I get there, and a dark haired girl is on reception…I remember thinking ‘is that her?’ I wasn’t attracted, nothing grabbed me…plain, pretty, fragile…exactly what I don’t need…I’ve enough heartbroken girls thinking I owe them something on the gay scene I don’t want another pretty little girl. I text Michael saying has she got really dark hair? I think I’ve met the girl????? He replied me, assuring me I haven’t, and that was a girl called Laura.

Time passes and I go into the shop again…moments before, I had lunch with a girl/customer from the Loft, my last chance of a date…I’m finally deciding to go on dates with my admirers…I’m sat there…bored…tired…trying to be funny, I’m sat in my navy hoodie and my apron and black trousers ready for work…I’m dressed as ‘Katie from the Loft’ if that’s what they want, that’s what I’ll give them. I’m starting to think I want too much from someone…I want excitement, constant challenges, an array of different moods…all none threatening of course…but this girl from whom accompanies me for lunch is nice, pleasant she’s a middle class University graduate from which I have un-questionable doubt that her Father is very proud of her and her Mother delivers her cakes of a weekend and interferes in everything she does…I suspect the words ‘fussy’ and ‘squeamish’ when I think of her. I didn’t travel half way round the world to date someone fussy, squeamish and pleasant…I went to discover depth, angles, adventure and passion. I’m thinking Thailand, Africa, Asia…rough terrain…this girl was so Isle of Wight.