The buzz from my phone alerted me to the fact that I had a notification. I had just gone to bed and was dozing. The sheets were crisp and the cotton felt soft against my smooth legs. Mrs Sox lay next to me and had fallen asleep as soon as her head had hit the pillow.
What or who was trying to contact me now? Curiosity got the better of me and I stretched a hand out of the cover towards the bedside cabinet. An unsolicited admirer had contacted me through the TV Chix web site. I put the phone back and pulled my arm back into the warmth.
I have been thinking of deleting my profile off of that web site. It has been ok in the past and I have made a few friends from there but recently it’s not been great.
He was probably a sad boy who feels lonely and just wants company. Maybe the message sent was one inquiring of friendship, perhaps someone who just wants a chat.
The profile picture could be of a handsome business man looking for the girl of his dreams. I could become a girl of leisure. A lady who lunches and who is a shopaholic that only buys Gucci hand bags. I could be chauffeured in a big black limousine with Champagne on ice. The door opened for me as I get out and walk into the Dorchester holding my pooch.
Damn I am awake now, I will have to look and see the message……..my hand makes its way out from under the covers and grasps the phone again. I tap on the screen and open up the message on Chix.
It says….. ‘wanna meet babe’ ARRRRGH his profile pic makes him look like an axe murderer who struggles to wash and has forgotten what a comb is for.
I switch the phone off and put it back on the bedside table whilst shaking my head. I hear the soft breathing of my Mrs Sox next to me and snuggle into her back. Perhaps I should stay poor with a loving wife, rather than become a member of high society.