Single sex lives


Ever since I started my new gig at an adult novelty store, or as my mother likes to call it, ” the dildo shop”, I have observed and taken in more information than I ever knew I could possess about the ever so taboo subject of sex.

Pretty much a typical shift consists of me placing bets in my own mind of what I think a person or couple is looking for. I am surprised nearly every time. It’s not just strangers who have left me guessing, but even people I have known for years have confided their secret fetishes to me and its a topic that has been racing in my mind ever since I started my employment and got exposed to the reality of the secrecy of intimacy that surrounds us.

This brings me to my main topic of interest; the sex life of a single person. Suppose someone has been single for many many years but hasn’t dated anyone seriously. You have to wonder, where and how are they satisfying their needs? I say needs because let’s face it, the majority of society does not practice abstinence. In fact were more animalistic than ever now, is that true or have I just been around too many porno films lately?

A couple weeks ago, in the middle of the hottest heatwave of the year in Vancouver, I had a great talk with my go-to-guru Spidey on his basement floor, which was the only room that didn’t make us feel we were being asphyxiated by the suns wrath. As we sipped our afternoon cocktails, we dissected the scenarios carefully.

The FWB (Friend with benefits):

You’re single, you get drunk with a friend and end up having sex. Classic. You decide this was a genius idea and propose the idea of combining the friendship with sex. This relationship can also be achieved with a direct approach in asking for permission of holding the status of FWB before any sex actually happens. Proceed with caution because it gets weird fast in most cases.

The layover:

Many people have someone who is a consistent in-between-relationship bed mate. It’s sort of like a FWB situation only it feels like a rental date more than a buddy you occasionally have sex with for a designated period of time. The layover is not a one time thing but rather is someone you are with consistently between several failed relationships.

Brief courtships turned strictly business:

As singles, dates happen. Sometimes a brief courtship that just wasn’t a great fit can turn into a recurring fling. “It wasn’t the right timing, but the sex was great, so why not?”


For those who prefer zero expectation of repeat performances, this is a one stop, gross and illegal shop.

One night stands:

Also classic. A drunk night at a bar, meet a random and hookup for one night only. Sadly this temporary escape becomes habit forming and requires very little effort, but nevertheless, it’s a way to tie you over until you meet someone who is actually worth keeping around.

Self pleasure:

Masturbation and/or pornography. Several times a week. Enough said.

Did I miss anything?

Seemingly, no one talks about this openly. It’s completely taboo, especially as we get older, but rest assured that the vast majority of singles are taking up at least one of these methods to keep sane. We are only human. You have to wonder though, which singles are practicing which method? In hindsight, we are always looking for something, whether it be a temporary escape from our single lives or something lasting and meaningful and something we can build a future upon. The vault of secrecy has been unlocked and the combination is complicated.

How do you tie yourself over between relationships?


The price of single


Sometimes a person needs to change the way they do things in order to achieve different results. Thus far the online dating thing has not served me well. After four years off and on of relying on a computer to score my compatibility with absolute strangers, I decided to explore other options.

For those of you that don’t know, Vancouver is one of the most expensive cities in the world to live in. Nothing is cheap here, and as I have just recently learned, as a single person looking to meet other single persons, we have an invisible “sucker” stamped into our foreheads, and evidently our wallets too.

I recently looked into a group called Events and Adventures. I’m a woman who loves be active and social at the same time, like many other mountain climbing Vancouverites. I went for my consultation excited and eager to learn more. If you haven’t heard the radio ads, which are played constantly throughout the day to remind yourself that yes, you are in fact still single, well basically how it starts off is something to the effect of “are you tired of online dating?” Yup, that’s me. I was optimistic.

I met with a sharply dressed man, lets call him Joe. Joe sat me down and went through a series of questions about me, what I do, what my hobbies are and why I was there. Basically an online dating profile in the form of a job interview. He showed me a “yearbook” of previous events the club members on the outings. Basically, it resembled summer camp with cocktails. After about a half hour chat where he convinced me I was a perfect candidate for this elite group of singles, we got into pricing.

So online dating on average is about $40 per month, although some sites have special deals if you purchase for longer terms. This I completely understand. It’s a basic cost of membership. This was peanuts in comparison.

So Joe outlines the different membership “levels”. Silver, Gold and Platinum. Silver is a one year term, Gold is two and Platinum is unlimited. I was only interested in the Silver membership.

Drumroll please….

3 fucking grand! And I haven’t even gotten to the best part! $3,000 buys your MEMBERSHIP ONLY! You still need to add your activity costs on top of that. Except of course, the free stuff like hiking, which is always free anyways! Sheesh! The club has a grand total of 2,000 members out of a 1.5 million approximate city population.

Wait, wait, Joe… So you mean to tell me that $3,000 gets me access to only 2,000 single people!? Oh wait, nope! They’re not all technically single. If you meet someone in the group and form a relationship, you are still part of the club and can attend all events. In fact, Joe himself is one of those people! Did I also mention that 2,000 people were in an age range from 20-60ish? In case you don’t know by now, I politely declined membership.

I mean seriously. Great business model, however, at an astounding cost. 3 fucking grand!? Just to highlight how much money this is, I made a list of what else I could put that towards.

Things $3,000 will buy you as a single person to make you feel less single:

One escort/gigalo (rental spouse) a month for an entire year complete with dinner and a bottle of wine.

5 pornos a week for a year

One sex toy a week for 52 weeks

A blowup doll and a trip to the hot tropics with said blow up doll

A shit ton of liquor

Tattoo removal of the apparent idiot stamp on your forehead.

I mean seriously, the monthly payment is a car payment. A CAR payment! I would have better luck buying a brand new car and driving around the city topless. And at least that way, I would have a brand new car!

And in conclusion…


Free: you get what you pay for


When it comes to online dating, the best way I can describe the experience of taking on four different sites at once (Plenty of Fish, OkCupid, eHarmony and Match) is that each site will depict its own specific dating pool.

After my message from the twerp I posted in my last entry, I decided enough was enough as far as Plenty of Fish was concerned. I met, chatted and dated approximately 20 different men on there and the overall summary is that it is by far the seediest pool. In a nutshell, you get what you pay for. While there may be some good apples on the free sites, they are few and far between the A-holes and as I understand, overly promiscuous women are also rampant on POF. As for OkCupid, while free, its popularity is still growing. The app crashes frequently and the pool and page views are significantly less than those of POF. There are also less filters and features leaving this dating excursion to have been notably boring. My summary is that the pay sites are the way to go if you are looking for persons of quality and genuine interest in finding someone to date long term.

In an effort to shed light, and further shame my previous encounter, I contacted my local radio station, Virgin 95.3, Breakfast with Nat and Drew and sent them the same screenshot I posted here earlier this week. Revenge is a dish best served on the Vancity airwaves and blasted across a 13k Facebook following. Thank you Nat & Drew for allowing me to share my story with you! I spoke with them on air yesterday morning and the response to the Facebook posting was beyond imaginable. I am not the only person this happens to, and it actually can be much worse. One listener wrote “I got told to commit suicide” and another woman stated her date said “you’d have great legs if you toned them up a bit. Have you ever considered having that mole removed? You’d be very pretty!” The list goes on.

Why in the flying fuck are people like this here? Are we a city of pretentious assholes that would rather date a beautiful exterior than expect any level of substance on the inside of a person? Is personality seemingly irrelevant? What about life morals and drive and ambition? Are those highly desired traits suddenly waived as long as you have a six pack abs, the perfect blowout and a $75 manicure? Some of my greatest relationships have been with people who were average looking. I didn’t realize how attractive they were UNTIL I started to get to know them. That’s the best part of dating, those tidbits you get along the way that makes the person so much sexier! Have we forgotten, Vancouver?

For the remainder of the summer, I am going on an online dating cleanse! With the weather as gorgeous as it has been, I’m taking my research outside! Also, I have just recently picked up a part-time job at an adult store. Partly for extra cash so I can get the heck out of the country for a while, and party for your reading entertainment Ha Ha! Stay tuned.

Click here to see the Facebook post on Breakfast with Nat & Drew – Virgin radio 95.3 FM

Shallow Vancouver

As funny as my dating life can be, it also has it’s less than desirable sequences otherwise known as the self righteous assholes. Yesterday I got a message that completely cranked my gears!

Before I go into detail about what was said to me, firstly I will tell you that this message was completely unprovoked. It wasn’t a response to a message I had sent or continuation to any sort of blossoming conversation, but rather was completely unsolicited “advice” that this asshole felt the need to share with me.

“You would be more attractive if you lost a bit of weight, maybe.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

Okay, so I stand about 5’4, I’m 140 lbs on an average day. I am also a kick boxer who just earned my orange belt two weeks ago. I am AVERAGE! I’m a bit curvier, but I am not overweight and even if I was, WHO CARES?! If you don’t like someone’s size, don’t message them! If a person is bigger than your liking, why bother to go out of your way to insult a complete stranger?! If it’s not your preference, move-the-fuck-on!

So this brings me to my next point of how shallow the people of Vancouver are. This seems to be a bit of an epidemic lately. If you’re not a size 2 in this city, it seems like you’re chopped liver. It’s hard enough being single and tackling your body image issues at the same time. I work out and eat right and consistently and I am trying my best! For someone to come right out and slam you for it is downright ridiculous, not to mention bad manners. When did this become okay? What ever happened to getting to know a person instead of judging someone completely based on their exterior!? Get off your high horse Vancouver!

Below I have attached a snapshot of the POF message. As for you, REEDPANTS, I would like to take this opportunity to firstly, publicly shame you, and secondly congratulate you for winning the douche bag of the week award. When you have the chance to step away from the mirror you so obviously dote upon, please pick up a copy of my upcoming book titled GO FUCK YOURSELF! It’s full of valuable life advice including how to remove your head from your anus and answers to your most frequently asked questions like “why is my penis so small?” PS- your mother must be proud to have raised such a strapping young man. I’m looking forward to taping your picture to my punching bag tonight.

My Plenty of Fish Account has been deleted. Complete garbage site.



Bachelor #3: Scary apartment guy


Not all of my dates result from online dating. Sometimes, they result traditionally from a chance encounter. Other times, they result from chance meetings coupled with copious amounts of liquor and random nights out otherwise known for me as this past weekends Taylor Swift concert.

Firstly, if you want to feel old in your late twenties, go to a young artists pop concert. When her song “22” came on, I looked around me at all the shrieking teenagers watching with their mothers and fathers by their side, and it dawned on me that I could no longer utter these song lyrics in hopes that my life would be just like the song, that is of course because that was 6 years ago and this Dorothy isn’t in Kansas anymore.

So what do you do when you start to feel old at a massive event? If you’re like me, you get smashingly drunk with your very best girlfriend.

After the concert, we decided to hit a local sports bar, hoping to feel like an adult again. Mission accomplished. For privacy reasons, I can’t mention the establishment we attended, it may or may not be the most popular pre Canuck game spot, just saying.

So anyways, we sit at the bar and proceed to order double vodkas, the $9 palm bays and draft beer served in BC place just weren’t as satisfying as an adult cocktail. We’re greeted by an extremely cute bartender who proceeds to get us drunk with complimentary shots. He and I were totally hitting it off when closing time quickly approached and my girlfriend had to make her way home to her boyfriend. This was the point that the bartender asked me to hang out with him after his shift.

After being among the girls that I used to be, and being somewhat of a tame dame this past year and a half, I decided I deserved a little random fun, and as he described, our unofficial first date. I sat at the bar as he closed for the night and off we went to a nearby bar that was open until 3.

From here it all became somewhat of a blur. Within the first five minutes of being inside the second venue, I had already slammed back three shots. I was truly with a downtown bartender because everyone knew him and wanted to buy him and his date (insert me) drinks. I felt amazing. We were dancing and laughing and he even twirled me on the dance floor. We were captivating everyone around us when it suddenly dawned on me that the last sky train was long gone for the night, and then it was closing time.

Using my intoxicated intuition which has rarely ever failed me, I agreed to crash at his place. I could have taken a cab, but where’s the fun in that?

One six dollar cab ride later, we arrived at his apartment, and that’s when the horror show started.

Now, I understand a 25 year old bachelor might be a bit on the messy side, in fact, I completely expect it, but this was another level. It was like hoarders without the hoarding. I don’t think the guy has ever cleaned his bathroom ever! There was an iron on the kitchen counter among a plethra of dirty dishes. I won’t even get started on the way the hardwood felt on my bare tootsies. Even in my drunken state I was flabbergasted at the lack of attention paid to his sweet little digs in the heart of the city. Did this guy even own cleaning supplies?

The couches were black and a glass top coffee table boasted dirty wine glasses and random papers. All I cared about was a soft surface to crash on, which thankfully was available and not too shabby. So I slept hard until I could make my way home sober the next morning. For me, it’s not necessarily a deal breaker that a man has a messy apartment, but the bathroom upkeep is pretty important in my opinion. Of all the rooms in the home you can neglect, bachelors, please keep your water closets at least somewhat clean. On the plus side, there was toilet paper! Thank the heavens for that!

So I guess that’s how it goes right? I go from a man who wants to clean my place to a man who doesn’t clean at all! Variety is the spice of life.