I’ve been sequestered working in a small town with 3000 people (none of them single) for the last 4 months, thus there have been zero dating stories to report. I’m now back in the big city and it only took 2 hours and 45 minutes for the freaks to come out! I must have either a doomsday wish or am oddly fascinated by the sheer bizarre mixture of humanity presented on Tinder.
It took Fetish Guy exactly 3 messages to talk about pantyhose. He asked what I was doing over the weekend and I told him I was in an outdoor wedding. (It was 43 degrees with snow flurries.) I’m sure he was just thinking “safety first” when he made the suggestion I wear pantyhose to keep me warm. He then followed up the next day asked if indeed I had actually worn pantyhose. Okay, I get it, you have a pantyhose fetish. Can’t you hide it for at least 2 days? Sigh….not sure I’m ready to do this again. But I have a date on Tuesday anyway. No, not with Fetish Guy. We shall see what circus freak show this one holds.
Soldiering onward and downward….
mosaicchronicles 