Oh dear; is it me?
Am I the kiss of death to Pro$$ies' careers in the North West?!
Or are they trying to tell me something?
After the debacle which was my failed mission last month to see Kim Robinson
https://www.ukpunting.com/index.php?topic=30035.0 , and after having my refund from e-on, the electricity and gas supppliers
https://www.ukpunting.com/index.php?topic=31916.msg445523#msg445523, some of which I boasted that I was going to use for a "bonus" punt to my usual schedule, I made contact earlier this week with
External Link/Members Only or
External Link/Members Only and arranged an hour this Friday lunchtime.
Communications were good up to Friday morning. We'd agreed the time; then I'd sent her the e-mail I always send to a WG before a first meeting, so that she knows she'll be meeting an elderly [68-y-o], disabled punter whose disability restricts the positions he can get into. I'd had replies to each of these - neither my age nor my disability was a problem and she even gave me the name of the street on which she lives [as I used to live in Blackburn 40+ years ago, I knew just where it was] and had promised that, when I texted on Friday to say that I was on my way over to Blackburn, she'd text me the number of her house.
So, having taken my Viagra-substitute about 3/4 hours before our appointment was due to begin, I texted from the train to say I was on my way and ask if she would mind giving me the number of her house.
Guess what? That's right; no reply!
So, I left it about 25 minutes and re-texted the same message. Still no reply.
So I arrived on Blackburn station about 10 minutes before our appointment was due to begin with an erection [my Sildenafil had worked its magic] and no idea where to go and use it.
I didn't have a Plan "B" because my Plan "A" was the only one in Blackburn in my preferred age-range and price-range that I really liked the sound of.
What do I do? Do I get a taxi to the short-ish street on which she lives and begin working my way down the street, knocking on front doors asking if anyone knows Carole, the Scouse prostitute lives, because I've got an appointment with her at 1.00 and I'm not sure exactly where she lives/works? Or do I keep my £70 [is she really Romanian, I began to wonder?!] in my pocket and get the next train back home?
I took the second option, giving thanks that two of the "mates I've never met" on here have marked my card with a Plan "A", "B" and "C" for my next punt, planned in London this coming Wednesday.