This is a "no-show" negative review, so I'll keep this shorter than my usual review format.
This girl was apparently previously known on AW as "LiaYoung" (
https://www.ukpunting.com/index.php?action=search2)
Her current AW is
External Link/Members OnlyI contated Annie/Lia by text, and after some back and forth about DFK (on her enjoys list, but well...she is Romanian
She finally agreed to do it only if I had "a clean mouth"
, and we settled on £100 for an hour in-call at her address the following day.
She gave me the postcode and name of the block of flats (mentioned in her previous review I think, in any case is a 1 min walk from Piccadilly Gardens
NB: Other punters have had difficuly getting into the building, see search results above), and I was to call when i arrived to get the flat number. All good comms, limited English but friendly.
So the next day I arrive in plenty of time (10 min before start of booking) and call her mobile, on the off chance she is free earlier than expected. No answer, went to voicemail.
No problem I thought,
I'm early, I'll just loiter inconspiuously outside the doorway and observe the cosmopolitan marvel that is modern Manchester for a while.
As I am doing my best impression of a streetlamp a young bloke (early/mid 20's, stupid haircut, expensive trainers, tight jeans and earphones in) wanders up to the door and is seemingly non-plussed by the numberpad on the door. He has obviouly never seen this door before by the way he is messing with key fob reciever (maybe he thinks its a doorbell). He pulls out his mobile, fires off a quick text and starts to loiter on the opposite side, looking quite sheepish and avoiding my eye contact.
Aha, a fellow punter.After a few minutes I notice that it is now time for my meeting with Annie so I call again. No answer, voicemail left. I send her a quick text saying i'm outside.
After another minute or two a middile aged, mousey-looking woman (short grey hair, glasses, flowery skirt and flat, sensible shoes) wanders up and does the same pantomime that I and Billy-Tight-Jeans have just done; checks the number pad, dosn't press any buttons, pulls out her mobile and texts and takes up position on my side of the doorway about an arms length away from me.
Hmmm...possible lezzer, mobile phone shuffle...An example of the Lesser-Spotted Ladypunter?Time passes and I'm struck by the comical scene of (tall, rogueishly handsome and debonair) yours truly, Billy-Tight-Jeans and Maybe-Muff-Munch-For-Money all nervously checking our mobiles and making calls / texts every few minutes, one after the other, all lurking by the entryway to an apartment block, while what feels like most of manchester walsk past.
Anyway during this time I've made three unanswered calls and sent three texts and have reched my 15 min "fuck off" point (actually nearer to half an hour including the 10 min was early) so I send Annie one last text saying I'm leaving and I try to catch Billy-Tight-Jeans' eye, mainly to give him a heads up about my plan B (Cosmo on Portland street), in case he wasn't aware.
Me: Excuse me mate, are you waiting to meet someone from in here? <<motions towards doorway>>
BTJ: <<pulls out earphones, turns bright red in the cheeks and stammers a bit>> Oh no! No, I live here.
Me: Oh right. <<bright idea occurs>> You couldn't let me in could you, as I'm meeting somone upstairs?
BRJ: Oh, no sorry I can't...I erm, can't remember how to get in.
Me: <<thinking WTF?>> You live here but you can't get in?
BTJ: Yeah...I've just moved in and I can't remember what number I live at...
Me: <<thinks:
>> You don't know what number flat you moved into? Haven't you got a key fob?
BTJ: ...No.
Me: <<haha hahahahah ha ha
>>
At this point I think that I'll leave the obvioulsy highly embarassed lad to his "cover story" and make my exit, noticing as I go that MMMFM has been twitching her ears at our stilted conversation and is still expertly avoiding making eye contect with either of us.
Off I wander to a highly enjoyable plan B (separate review to follow).
About 8 hours later I get a text from Annie saying "sory for this morig baby x" (her spelling). I text back asking what happened, and her reply is "Im ready for you now com in baby".
I didn't have the willpower to text her back that amazingly I hadn't spent the last 8 hours sitting in Picadilly Gardens pulling my plonker waiting for her to get back to me, as she seemed to think...
Sufice to say, even though AnnieYoung is a slim and fit Rita Ora lookalike at an afordable rate, I won't be trying again...