I wish that swinging was as easy as it sounds.
SWINGING…say it with me. It almost implies that it’s effortless.
Dangling, swaying, moving closer and closer to something you desire.
Alas, nope. it’s not that cut and dry.
If anything, it’s hard fucking work.
Between dating sites and taking pics to post on said sites in strategic lighting that make you look more model than mom and shaving or waxing all your lady bits and getting dressed in just the right dress that shows off all the goods whilst simultaneously hiding your desperation, and then the awkward convo and the weird flirting you attempt to do over cocktails mixed with house vodka while a Dj plays three year old music way too loud so conversation is always stinted and stupid and HOLY SHIT CAN’T WE JUST FUCK ALREADY??
Instead, the night ends with nothing but disappointments and shattered expectations because WHY IS IT SO HARD to find someone cute who doesn’t annoy you and who has clean finger nails and is dressed like he cares about himself and smells like he put some effort into getting into your pants and who makes you feel all silly and cute and sexy so that your panties will just fall right off on their own?
I know I’m not a science major, but chemistry shouldn’t be this hard to find.