THURSDAY night: date night — but tonight for me is a first. Not that I’m the Virgin Mary, I’ve had a dating column for years. But tonight there’ll be two people meeting me in a bar near my flat, and at least for me that’s new. Every couple that walks in and doesn’t scout for a third party is clearly on one of those boring old dates I used to go on — but now, just for Valentine’s Day, I’m trying my hand at polyamory. Which is possibly the wrong phrase here. And unless I’m stood up, of course.
Luckily, I’m not. The pair I recognise from Feeld walk in five minutes late (which feels like five hours late because this is a different kind of tension completely). “Lucy?” they ask and I stand, wondering who I should hug hello to first and deciding the woman.
Polyamory: the word that makes anyone that’s understood/enjoyed/welcomed its potential for years now roll their eyes, but a word that still makes the yet-to-be-conscripted perk up. Having dated men and women, separately, I’m trying my hand at couples this year.
Chrissy, 31, is brunette and looks a little plainer than her pictures but has a huge smile. She is dressed casually, in a way that seems slightly non-committal. I know from talking to her slim, hipster partner, Billy, 34, on the app that she works abroad and that they are looking to “broaden their relationship”.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة February 13, 2024 من Evening Standard.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
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هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة February 13, 2024 من Evening Standard.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
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