Friday, 5 February 2016

Tina's doing her dance

Paul's getting down on the floor
While Hannah's screaming out for more

Between the ages of about 21 and 23, I did the Craigslist thing. I can't say I'm proud of it, or even that it was particularly successful (here and here are two situations in which it was far from successful...), but - being short of cash for adult dating sites and really, really, really wanting to have sex - I occasionally used to have a quick look through Craigslist's (in)famous "casual encounters" section. Since then, it's been taken over by people seeking payment for their services (a result of Craigslist removing their "adult services" section) - a similar fate befell Gumtree's section before they, too, removed that.

I wasn't really a shark. I'm not "that guy" who sends the same message to a large number of girls on the site with a badly-written sentence and unsolicited cock shot and I never was. I did, occasionally, send a missive which, I hoped, was carefully thought out and correctly written (without a cock shot), but never really got much of a response - despite trying my very hardest.

And then there was something that piqued my interest.

There was an ad under the w4m tag claiming to be from a man acting as an intermediary from a very famous person looking for anonymous sex. This person, he claimed, was a household name, but frustrated with their mediocre love-life and had started craving guilt-free, no-strings sex, and had asked him to find it. With the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra-large toy from his sack, he had presented this idea as a wondrous offer, stipulating that if you responded to the ad you needed to put in a lot of effort: explain exactly what you were looking for and why you should be the one to sleep with a famous person.

It didn't ask for a picture, a physical description or a name (which makes me think that it wasn't a picture hoarder or some dude looking to expose everyone). Just a rationale. And, the more I read, the more it seemed to make sense - despite being posted on Craigslist and, initially, beyond belief.

But
then there was the final line:

And remember... there ain't no party like an S Club party...

Could it be?

I wouldn't call myself a fan of S Club 7, although I did - admittedly - watch a bit of the first series of Miami 7 after seeing them on Blue Peter. My friend-who-is-a-midwife regularly breaks out their Greatest Hits CD at parties and we will all inevitably end up dancing to Reach (ch00n!) and/or Don't Stop Movin' (bangin'!) and/or Bring It All Back (positive comment here!), but that's about it. Unlike all the other boys in my odd social clique at school, I was never that much into Rachel - preferring Hannah, who had the prettier smile - but (not doing the celebrity crush thing) I wasn't really ranking the girls in S Club in order of preference for sex.

And yet here was a man offering one. Or, y'know, claiming to be. Or hinting that he was. Maybe he was. I have no idea. I didn't respond to the post.

I was surprised at how long it stayed on the site for (I checked). Nobody appeared to have flagged it and it remained up for days and days and days. I wondered who responded, and what sort of a reply they got. And about whatever motivation the poster had had when he originally posted it. I highly doubt that a real member of S Club had enlisted his help to get anonymous shags and suggested Craigslist as an appropriate medium to do so.

But, at the back of my mind, I've always wondered. Jo? Tina? Hannah? Rachel?

And, at times, I wish I'd responded. Just to see exactly what was going on here... if anything at all.

Unless, of course, he was referring to someone from S Club Juniors. That'd be all kinds of wrong.

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