Were you the one in the flowery cotton dress, and the Milano Blahniks? I had my eye on you, but lost you in the crowd.

So that was you I saw across the room at the London in Port Melbourne!

I wonder if you will ever respect me again.

Love Gods are not permitted to flirt with the clients. Honestly, it’s bad enough trying to keep an eye on Dr Troppo without you acting up as well.

I insist that you apologise to Ms Gen now.

I am feeling like I really could like him and I may have ruined any chances of something deeper because I slept with him the way I did

I’m not like the others. I’m not going to make lewd jokes about your choice choice of words. I respect you too much, and I appreciate how emotionally vulnerable you are at this distressing time.

Now listen. I’m going to be brutally honest, because you deserve the truth. You ask is there any way this could work? Is this salvageable? The answer is quite simply no. He’s just pretending to like to like you because he wants to get into your panties again (Sorry pants again). He doesn’t really respect you, and as I’ve already said, I do.

You’re too good for him Gen. I can tell that without having even met you, but I don’t hesistate to say it because I only want what’s best for you.

You need to lift your eyes up young lady. Away from your phone and its terse little SMSs of sleazy intent, and instead get into email (RU/18?), where the possibilities are no longer restricted by those infuriatingly small mobile phone buttons and where a gentleman can express his undying love for you in English, the langauge of Shakespeare, or if you prefer Ralph.

Speaking of Shakespeare, he’d be over eighty years old now if he was still alive. You didn’t know he died? Yes I’m afraid so. He meant a lot to many of us. I’m still in shock. I’m thinking of going to a bar this Friday to drown my sorrows. Wanna come?

P.S. I always knew IKEA was the unholy work of the debbil.

It’s classic, straight out of Satanic folk culture. By saving on warehousing and manufacturing, I offer a fashionable premium-branded product that you like, at a price you can afford, and simplify delivery, and it’s only when you’ve gotten the thing out of the box and skinned all your knuckles on the hard-edged pine lacquer and the soft-steel allen key we provide, that you realise just what kind of transaction you’ve made.
Mhuuhahahahaha.

P.S. I always knew IKEA was the unholy work of the debbil.

“I am feeling like I really could like him and I may have ruined any chances of something deeper because I slept with him the way I did.”

Try sleeping with him a different way next time, then see if it gets any deeper.

“Rules/schmooles” indeed, Caroline. The book is really telling women to be something they’re not to attract a bloke. Of course, what’s he going to think when the woman drops the act and behaves like herself, instead?

It sold trillions, though.

I am feeling like I really could like him and I may have ruined any chances of something deeper because I slept with him the way I did.

Thank you for your inquiry.
We require more information to process your request.
Any more detail will certainly shed light onto this rather technical question. We keenly await further exposition on any such drug-induced aberration as allegedly occurred. Illustrations will be accepted and returned with a stamped self-addressed envelope.
Sincerely
The Devil Drink
Marketing Manager (Acting), Lovin’ Division, IKEA*
*everything flat-packed and assembled at home, sweating and cursing, with a 5mm allen key

Had the bloke written this the uniform response would undoubtedly have been something along the lines of:- Yeah. Right. Whereas for a woman it brings up questions of her apparent moral fibre, or lackthereof and the overwhelming consensus that the bloke is definitely only interested in another root.

because I slept with him the way I did.

Would suggest the woman in question doesn’t normally ’sleep’ with people in this way. i.e, it was a drug-induced aberration and she’ll never be able pull it off again, but he’d like to think this was her normal behaviour and is as keen as mustard to go another round.

Darlene, this is what confirms my inner misanthropist–everybody has read and committed to memory the (Fucking) Rules but I’ve only ever managed to get a paranoid sense that such a tome exists. Rules/schmooles I say! The Conservative-age still has its teeth sunk firmly in. And the bimbo lives to die another day.

Unless she means ‘he slept with her the way he did, rather than some other and presumably preferable way’. In which case the question would still apply, only more so.

But do you really think it is wise to encourage Dr Troppo? After all, there’s nothing worse than a middle-aged man trying to be witty and hip.

After a recent trip to the movies he’s become convinced that all smart, sarcastic 16 year old girls are into anti-folk. If I have to listen to another Moldy Peaches song I’m going to …

Sorry. I momentarily lost my composure.