You know, I really thought about the implications of posting this character assassination. I considered the prospects of ever reuniting, & the potential effect this little cracker would have on such chances.

However, I decided that I really didn't want to pursue this emotional cripple any further. I resigned my feelings of compassion to the backseat... & steeled my resolve to douse the funeral pyre, & spark up the match.

 

Ted was a client whom I had seen a few times before deciding to pursue in a romantic sense. I know, I know... my track record with dating clients has been disastrous at best. Upon reflection, I can't help but question the motivation behind my persistance to flog a dead horse.

 

Anyhoo, I digress...

 

Ted was an alleged divorcee, who had been briefly ensnared in a post-marriage skirmish with another before landing on my doorstep. Initially, all was sunshine & lollipops - he was in the same ballpark agewise, gainfully employed, was OK with kids & had a GSOH.

 

He was as plain as an arrowroot biscuit. Anyone who has witnessed the standard presented by my smoking hot blonde, bullyboy convict ex would agree. However, that was actually a nice divergence for me. I foolishly figured that it would be a welcome break from beating off my female competition with a stick...

 

Or, so I thought.

 

Nearly a year slid past....

 

We had enjoyed several trysts (often over several nights) in hotel rooms, both in Canberra & Sydney. Never once did he offer to introduce his friends or family. Not once were we ever offered a visit to his house - it was always mine. Adnittedly, he lives in Sydney & I'm based in Canberra, so the element of distance was never going to work in our favour.

 

He came to Canberra to attend a work function, ostensibly 'forgetting' to invite me along as his date. The fact that men pay me to be their dates to such events didn't escape me at the time.... ah, such cruel irony!

 

He would feign interest in FUTURE trips or excursions, rarely stepping up to the plate to make such ideas a reality. There was always an excuse, ready & waiting. I can honestly say that he we hardly went anywhere, preferring to just fuck. On the two occasions we actually ventured out as a 'unit', both were outside of his homebase.

 

If I ever went so far as to organise a night out with my friends, he would agree... & then flake. Once or twice is understandable - shit happens, it's futile pretending otherwise. However, this guy managed to produce a crisis at the last minute no less than 5 times.

 

Sound a bit dodgy to you?

 

When confronted with such facts, Ted would hark back to the devastating demise of his marriage, & ill-fated romance with someone else who (frankly) couldn't have cared less. Both of his (allegedly) previous relationships appeared to have been with women possessing lofty opinions of themselves, & who weren't really into physical intimacy.

 

Enter Roxanne, stage right!

 

The more I think about it, the more screamingly obvious it's all becoming...

 

Anybody who talks about wanting to kill themselves after having chased a girl for 8 months, only to fuck her once - drunk! - has some SERIOUS pedestal issues to work through.

 

Instead of dealing the situation as it was, he would throw up the smoke and mirrors of his alleged past, using previous emotional trauma as an excuse for 'holding back'. Perhaps 'taking all & giving none' would've been a more accurate description on his part...

 

So I ended it.

 

I couldn't stand being tethered to a person so emotionally inept & lifestyle challenged that he couldn't reciprocate my feeings. All talk & no action is the euphemism that comes to mind. The prospects of life without him were always just tickety-boo. After all, a girl like me never wants for admirers. However I hated the idea of having being misled by just another wanker looking for free sex & a paid ride. It's insulting, & inflammatory in the extreme.

 

So, a few fiery text messages later, I deleted his number. I intend to sell his Ipod he foolishly left behind (& is now too afraid to have me return by mail, lest I know his address) to anyone interested. God knows, I don't want to have it around, & be reminded of him.

 

I shall aways regard this unfortunate experience as an example of what happens when I date shitty people. Simply put: I was gong through a rough patch, & lowered my quality control enough to include him in my catchment. He's one bad fish I most DEFINITELY should've thrown back, a carp who was ultimately inadequate & unworthy of licking my shoe, much less my pussy.

 

I've since cried on the shoulder of a wonderfully-obliging wogboy, a local guy who is also my age, studying law. He's as cute as a button, & into the usual soccer & music scene favoured by men similiar to my ethnic persuasion. We've shared some very meaningful conversations over the years, & I find him to be one of the best listeners I've ever encountered.

 

He has survived a few turmoultous relationships in his time, but still believes in love. Furthermore, he looks deeply into my eyes when he fucks me every which way (but loose, ha ha), which I find to be an enormous turn on. He is one of the blessed legion who instinctively know my body, & can get me where I want to go.

 

So, am I tumbling down the well of togetherness again?

 

Hardly...

 

Whilst it's nice to know I'm still a goddess, & can still make grown men tremble at my touch, I work better when I'm single. I like giving my all to clients, & can't really do that when my emotional state has been hijacked by another's self-interest. I'm a traditional girl in many ways, & have always given my everything to my man. This works wonderfully in my profession when I'm single, but falls in a heap when I'm being pulled in multiple directions.

 

I'm in no rush to compromise my professionalism again. It can be a tough gig, being everything to everybody. Having an emotional master of puppets in the background has certainly never helped, pulling the strings of my inner turmoil at the most inconvenient times. I KNOW I'm better off without this loser, as is my family....

 

My kids don't need another trainwreck masquerading as a man. That's exactly who this fuckwit is.

.

Drop dead, Ted. I wouldn't fuck you again if you paid me...

 

HA HA.