I once made the mistake of going on a Tinder date with an aspiring comedian. By the time our main courses arrived he had shared his full sexual history, including a graphic description of a foursome with some travellers he had met on a couchsurfing site. I had always assumed these were meant for people who needed a cheap place to stay, but apparently at least one doubles as a hook-up app for casual-sex enthusiasts who hate hotel room charges. Eventually, after a long speech on female independence, he told me that he only paid for dinner when the girl was “very attractive”, so I plotted my escape while we split the bill. I thought he would be happy to call it a night, but no such luck. As I scrambled to find an emergency Uber, he grabbed hold of my foot, asking if he could lick my “sexy” toes all night. I declined his offer and spent my journey home wondering if it’s possible to shower your own skin off.

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Vijay Nanda

The author Vijay Nanda

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