A tale as old as time... Someone attractive pops up on your Facebook newsfeed... You spend a substantial amount of time perving on their pics. Oh how I love those who keep their Facebook public.
Then one night you get stupidly drunk and add them as a friend. They post "yummy" on your wall and you think "I am soooo in there.." However this fine speciman of maleness is a) hot enough to melt your eyeballs and b) 7 years younger than you. Nursing a lifelong sense of not being as beautiful as your best mate, you don't do anything further. Except casual pic perving. You're only human....
Fast forward a few months and I'm out for the night with my friends. Still suffering from a vague sense of inadequacy compared to my glamourous mates, I can't say I was loving life. But I was out so therefore trying to enjoy it. Having not set foot over the door in 18 months, I felt like a gauche teenager.
My lovely, engaged male friend was trying his hardest to cheer me up. In the style of Top Gun, he offered to be my wingman. Drunkenly we stumbled around the club until I saw a delectable man in a white shirt. "Bring me White Shirt Man!" was heard the cry, and I wandered off to the smoking area to find the others.
20 minutes later and the Jagerbombs have replaced the blood in my veins and I'm thinking now is a good time to go home and eat chips. I look up to see my lovely male friend gesturing me over as he stands with White Shirt Man. Delighted, I forget the chips and start thinking with my nether regions. I walk over and as LM goes to introduce me, I see WSM is with none other than my Facebook object of lust.
And he's checking me out.
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