He asks if he can speak with me, this guy I haven’t met yet. 

I’m pretty shocked. I’ve been online dating for a good three years now and this never happens. Yeah, I know – it used to be the only way to do it before you met someone. But sadly it’s not so prevalent now. 

So he gives me his number and tells me to call him. I inform him that I don’t call guys and he has to call me. 

I have to leave the building to take the call, my phone has no signal at work, and I’m unsure as to whether he genuinely wants to speak to me or just talk dirty to me. 

I’m cynical – I’ve had them all recently: the time wasters, the crackpots, the liars and cheats. The ones with girlfriends who want to fuck me in a hotel on the side. The picture collectors. I could go on. 

So he calls, and I stifle the urge to put on a silly voice. He sounds normal. His voice is assured, sexy and it sprinkles over me like icing sugar over a Victoria sponge. I’m laughing at his jokes, he’s laughing at mine. Actually I make him laugh a lot, I’m on form. I don’t make an idiot of myself for once.  

He’s going on holiday, this faceless voice. So we can’t meet until he gets back. 

9 days is a long time when you think you might have something. Keep your fingers crossed for me. 

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