The garden swing creaks from my weight on it as I appreciate how well my flowers have bloomed around my garden under the spring sun. I shouldn't have brought my phone out with me but I finally have some time to myself to choose the perfect man. I’ve been putting my career first for so long I forgot I was still a virgin in my late 20’s. It’s not a big deal, I was never one to seek companionship and all the frivilities that come with the party scene. I just wanted to work, live in peace and birdwatch. But lately I’ve been wanting someone to share this all with, someone to sit on the other side of this swing with me. I have no idea how to date, no clue how to interact with humans outside of my clients whom I do accounting for. So here I am, looking at a collection of well groomed men in their 30s in an attempt to learn how to be more outgoing.

I come across a Steve, his profile reads; “Compassionate, good conversationalist, and easy on the eyes. I’ll be sure to make our time together a memorable one.” £200 an hour, rates for sexual requests negotiable. Five star ratings with one review reading; “Such a lovely and attentive gentleman.”

I choose you, Steve, to be my tutor. I pick a date for our first meetup. No turning back now.

On the day of the date, I’m more nervous than I thought I’d be. I forget that planning things behind a screen is easy but executing it is far more… real. I’m in a cute little café surrounded by plants and cats. A man dressed in smart casual attire walks in looking around and I can tell it's Steve because he shines. He sees me and waves. His eyes are the colour of the ocean of a tropical island, his smile as welcoming as a sunrise. I stand, breathing deeply. He walks over and hugs me like we’re old friends. He smells like my garden.

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