Shut your aunty up – date an escort

If you’re anything like me, over the years you’ve had enough of your aunty, lovely and well-intentioned though she may be, harping on about the fact that you’re still single, “at [my] age!”

Being of old fashioned stock and holding the purse-strings to our family’s financial fortune (rumoured to be a lot more than it actually is, but we still let her believe that she retains a hold over us, for some odd reason), I have yet to tell her that I do have an active love life, however it involves frequenting dating sites. Dependent upon my mood or what prior business engagements stack up in my diary will dictate which one is appropriate at any given time.

Hello, aunty, here is that girlfriend you keep asking about…she used to be an escort

With Christmas approaching this year, the parties on the way in the office, my mind turned towards the family dos, starting with the grand gathering on Christmas at said slightly demented aunty’s large house in the country. To be fair, that house is probably worth more than the family fortune; I don’t think she knows it. Bless

Now, on my dating sites, I have a lot of friends, some dearer than others; some a lot closer than others. A lot.

I could not, however, have put any of my dating site community peers through this charade. Many of them, like I, use free dating sites because we just are not ready for the whole commitment thing. With so much talent looking for a little adult fun online of a similar mind, why would you?

I was talking, after one of the equally staged works’ parties before the festive break, to a colleague; we’d escaped to the relative sanity of the hotel bar, far from the madding crowd, indeed. We were both two out of the three sheets to the wind (m’colleague closer than I) as I started to outline my dilemma, i.e., how do I enjoy the family gathering without offending either my aunty or one of my fellow dating site members by subjecting them to the festive farce.

“You use dating shitesch, right?”, my colleague asked, swilling and spillng a glass of festive cheer in my face as they did so. After answering in the affirmative, that yes, I certainly did avail myself of online dating facilities, I was beckoned closer to their ear in an overly confidential manner.

I turned so they could lean closer and, after catching and securing them by the elbow, they whispered “Eshcortsch!” into my ear, then wobbled back into their barstool, into what was as close to an upright position as they were going to achieve for the rest of the evening, and looking as if they’d just revealed the combination to the lock that contained my aunty’s deeds.

Escorts! I thought to myself the next morning, as I woke up in the ground floor hotel room, and instantly flipped up the laptop to search for Escort dating agencies in my area. Never a good idea when you’ve had a few, so I left it well alone, the night before. I was surprised at how many there were…
…not as surprised as my aunty, when I turned up at our party a few nights later with one on my arm…

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