I have constantly listened to all of the advice givers about where to find love. Many say that the right man is in front of you if you look hard enough, and all of the grandmas advise to “go to church and you will surely find a good boy there that will treat you right!” Other places where the man of your dreams is said to hiding are in the supermarket, at sports events, the library, next door, etc, etc. I have been there done that and no man that I was actually interested in could be found at any of the above places.
My recent move from St Lucia, in the Caribbean, to London has opened up dozens of goody bags of new ways of man hunting. Personal ads in the newspapers are abundantly available so I began my quest there. ‘Professional, tall, slim male looking for woman to give TLC and no strings attached fun.” Next! “Recycled bachelor, stock broker, 6’4”, handsome and looking for some fun from hot lady.” Maybe this was not the way to go.
Another popular method of meeting guys is dating events at clubs. A new one sparking a lot of interest is Friday FourPlay at a cool club in Soho called Punk. Kelly Osbourne and Kate Moss have made this their regular hangout, so snagging a man and spotting a celebrity could all be done at the same time. What more could a girl want? Every Friday evening for about four hours, Punk is turned into a dating venue for men searching for women, women for men, men on the hunt for men and women for women. The waiters, called sex slaves, place post it notepads on each table. If you see a boy or girl that tickles your fancy, you simply write them a love note saying so and hopefully they respond. These ‘notes of interests’ are delivered by the sex slaves so much embarrassment is saved.
Friday night and here I was at Punk, quickly surveying the room for any prospects. Yes, they were definitely in abundance, the tall and handsome guy in a suit near the bar, the artsy type sitting on a couch with friends and the smooth operator in the corner giving me a nod. Ordered a cocktail and settled onto a couch to begin my ‘correspondence’. Before deciding on my male target, a note came my way from the nodder in the corner. “You’re hot!” it simply said. “You’re hot yourself.” I wrote back. Soon, the sex slave waitress was back with a my drink of choice ordered for me by my pen pal and another note. “What’s your number?” “Come talk to me and I’ll give it to you,” I flirted back. “Come home with me now and we can talk in bed,” he responded. Next please.
While looking around for another prospect, a cutey parked his behind right next to mine. “Any luck?” I asked. “Nah, not really, started exchanging notes to a couple of girls but they didn’t want to actually talk to me in person,” he responded. “Look around again and maybe you will have better luck this time,” I advised. “I think I already have better luck,” said while eyeing me up and down and left to right.
The rest of my night was spent chatting with; let’s call him David, and moving my Caribbean waist on the dance floor. Singer James Blunt or a very good look alike walked by and gave a sexy smile. By the end of the night, numbers were exchanged. Friday FourPlay definitely gets my vote.
Next up, I must join the group Single in London on Facebook. This seems to be new breeding ground for hot dates. As I write, David, who I met at the dating night at Punk, sends me a text to ask what I am doing this weekend. Thumbs way up for this man meeting method. It is time for the Caribbean to jump on the bandwagon and seriously give this a try. Meeting men in the supermarket or at the local bar has just become passé.
