50 Shades of Graham


My first ever Tinder date! I was so excited, I rushed out and bought a brand new outfit, which I changed into before leaving work. Asking my male colleagues if I looked ok, I was told I looked “bang average” I’d take that!

Graham and I had been chatting for a couple of days as he was making his way to the UK from a country in Europe. I asked him if he was on the run from Interpol. He never confirmed or denied this. At 38, he seemed mature, older, wiser and pretty damn fit! I thought someone like him would be the perfect way to break the famine! I had high hopes, but then again, I always do!

So the night arrived. I chose a bar near to my place of work, just as a precaution. If he was an actual serial killer, I would increase my chances of survival by being in a place I was very familiar with and he wasn’t. I’ve binge watched those crime shows. I felt ready and prepared. I even sent a friend my GPS location to be on the safe side.

Walking into the bar, I see this tall, dark and slightly older version of my Tinder date. He hadn’t used recent pictures. That’s fine, I get it. He was still more than passable! The Canadian accent didn’t particularly do it for me, I could work with that.

He bought me a gin and we sat down to talk. I say we…he talked about himself, non-stop. After thirty minutes I realised he was not for me. As the gin flowed, he started to get a little more flirty. Awkward flirty. He told me he was writing a book about his sexual experiences as he loves nothing more than BDSM. He enjoys being bitten, punched and violent sex. I’m rather ‘vanilla’ so I found this all rather overwhelming.

He decided to tell me about the time he cheated on an ex-girlfriend and contracted Chlamydia..  By this point 90 minutes had gone by, so I thought that was ample time for me to have given him. I made my excuses and left.

Next day..

Sat at my desk I receive a message from Graham. It started well “Hell beautiful, it was really nice to meet you yesterday. I hope a second date is on the cards” Shortly followed by the above pictures of a box of ropes with the caption “I couldn’t’ stop thinking about tying up that little body of yours and hurting you”

I decided wisely to leave 50 Shades of Graham and his murder box in the archived section of my WhatsApp.



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