The Adventures of Naughty Miss Jones

'cos naughty miss jones knows vibrators. Visit me at

ryan-gosling-starbucks-runAs a modern woman, I’m somewhat used to taking matters into my own hands. Take from that what you will. So when the number of a cute boy I had briefly met was provided to me with a declaration ‘he said to say he’s definitely single’ I thought ‘why not’?. I pride myself on my adventurous spirit after all.
And so I messaged him, and asked to take him on a date. And hurrah(!), he responded the next day and said yes! Fuelled by the thrill of having had the guts to make the first move, I quickly messaged him back (not too quick of course, I know the rules), and suggested some possible days.

Over the next 72 hours, I waited patiently for a response. But….. nothing. Nothing, that is, except a mighty big case of message anxiety. During the 72 hours between hitting send and the moment I resolved it was time to officially get over it (admittedly, that resolve was somewhat assisted by a few glasses of red), I went through a range of emotions. There was the self doubt, of course; was I too fat/ not pretty enough/ was a sex toy merchant a put off for handsome young men? There was the anxiety… every time I got the buzz of a message; I quickly grabbed my phone only to discover another text from one of the girls, or civic video yet again chasing its overdue copy of The OC, series 2, disc 3. And there was bit of sadness. What was wrong with him? didn’t he know how much fun I can be? did men not appreciate cheeky, forthright women in this day and age?

Message anxiety, the feeling of helplessness and restlessness as you either wait for a message to be returned or worry about the content of a message just received, but not yet opened, is something I think we have all faced. You may have seen the recent Vodafone add where four young girls sit around a table, staring at one’s phone, obviously waiting for the buzz of a message. Cut to a handsome young man strolling past the beach, looking at a scrap of paper with the lady in question’s phone number. He decides against it, scrunches the paper up and throws it in the bin, leaving poor Jessica with even more days of message anxiety ahead. I feel your pain sista. (btw Vodafone; cute add, but your reception still sux).

During these horrendous 72 hours, I did receive a message from a boy; albeit not one I was interested in. My initial thought when I read his text (a simple request as to how I was and if I would be keen to catch up the following week), was ‘what the hell does he want… I wish he would just bugger off’.

I always say the way to tell if you really like someone is by your initial reaction when you see a text from them. If your heart swells and you get all ‘giddy’, you like them. If, like me in this instance, you simply dismiss it like the gherkin on a cheeseburger, you don’t. But did this mean I was the cause of someone else’s message anxiety? Was this poor boy, who was lovely, I just wasn’t into him, sitting at home, staring into his beer feeling fat, unattractive and undesirable? Jesus, I certainly didn’t want to be the cause of that!

It’s all enough to make a girl swear off any future communications with men for life! (which is great for my business… silver linings and all that).

Now, I would swear such a thing , only the hot Ryan Gosling look alike (I wrote about him last week) and I are still messaging. I know a lot about him now, from his hobbies to his favourite drop of red, and yet there has been zero talk of a catch up. I would take matters into my own hand and ask him, only right now I don’t think I could handle yet another form of anxiety in my life. I’ll wait for him to make a move.

And in the meantime, when I’m wanting to receive a buzz, I’ll stick to other forms of electrical devices.

Naughty Miss Jones xx

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