Red's Weekly Column Week One

Hello Guys and Dolls,

Let me introduce myself, my name is Red and I come from a delightfully boring and permiscuous little town called Middlesbrough.

I had been a singleton for little over a year, by choice and not by circumstance, happily I would indulge in the freedum of hitting the town, getting completely intoxicated and man hunting with my hungry pack of ladies. Some prowled for pleasure but I destined for love, problem was I had this awful habit of jumping into everything with both feet, eyes shut and hoping for the best.  I often would contemplate acts of radical complusion, grabbing that tall, beautiful creature and smothering them in the sexual energy which seemed to evaporate from underneath my skin.

 It got to the point were I was comfortable with stretching my legs and sprawling across my luxurious kingsize bed, without the longing for the gap to be filled by a man, atleast not permanently. A broken heart is hard to sell when you can see the cracks. You might even say I started to become bitter, when my efforts went up in the smoke I inhaled.
 I would live and breathe the filthy club scene, late night adventures and crawling home to bed with high heels in hand, bruised knees and an appetite for coffee and cigarettes in the morning.

You see, I made a concious decision to become a singleton when I came to the shocking realisation, Men are not as complex as I over analyse them to be. You may be thinking from the above paragraph, 'That lady is a tramp.' but my dears, I can assure you I was far from the common fuck and forget antics of today, I was always in search of a higher connection, beyond the sweat and pounding hearts, even at my most wreckless I was still a girl next door, a wall flower in an oversexed culture (think Janet, in The Rocky Horror Picture Show.) but eventually I picked up the pace. You see, my adventures and antics revolved and thrived around my surroundings, the deepness of the pounding bass drum forcing me to think of no other than the beat. The taste of stale ciggerettes and whisky that would comfort my chapped smile and playground injuries. I walked among the friends and the fiends, sweet talked into the arms of the destructive, those with malice intentions and dangerously perfect aesthetics.

My last visit to the Club was a most eventful night. I lost my passport which as you can imagine was highly frustrating  but fortunatly met my significant other, a beautiful, patient and modestly intelligent individual who I adore more with each day.Three weeks have passed yet it seems like a decade in my mind. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be embraced with such purity. For the first time it felt as though I'd read the small print and signed my name willingly, instead of compramising idolly my heart over my head.

Red xx