Someone just slid a packet of HANX vegan condoms across the table to me.
“They are very good for you,” she whispered.
“What am I meant to do, take one out and lick it?” I asked, a little archly it must be said. But you would be arch if you hadn’t had sex for this long. In fact you might be more than arch. You might be insane. I think I am handling this REMARKABLY WELL.
So here I sit. Me and my HANX vegan condoms, internally (ha, chance’d be a fine thing) asking the universe: Will I ever have sex again? So I externalised (even that would be fine at this point) the question to my best friend and she laughed. Nervously. “Of course you will.”
But if you have tried dating apps and found them to be a bit KFC; if you are a single mother with little money, less time and no surplus energy; if you can’t quite summon up the will to start taking courses and signing up for walking weekends (Jesus) then how is the wonder-schlong going to find you sitting on your sofa, glaring at Outlander (don’t, on any account: it’s a hate watch) and worrying about the heating bill? What exactly will change in order to get me laid?
I am okay looking and sounding. There isn’t anything sinister at play. But love and sex are a numbers game. And right now the odds are against me. Nonetheless I’ll pop the HANX vegan condoms in my bathroom cupboard just in case. I’ve already checked the expiry date. I’ve got exactly four years… Love a deadline.