The first driverless taxis have taken to the streets – apparently we won’t have to learn to drive anymore. At least not in Singapore.
It’s been just under three years that I’ve been freed from the tyranny of tight spaces. My car parks itself – Japanese technology at its finest. Who knew that I could fall under the spell of this incipient indolence. I have never been known for my work ethic and so quite rapidly became the victim of labour saving technology – search engines, deliveroo, uber, and home delivery of all my online retail therapy. I longed to have my entire needs satisfied without leaving the house too much, content to remain homebound. I would venture out on first dates and gauge how soon it might be safe to invite my paramours back home.
The lovers who are not put off too greatly by a less than tidy homestead have been happy to be accommodated by me. One such is Pieter. I have been dating him for a little under two months, shortly after I got back from down under. He is Dutch and had business of some sort in the UK. His company would put him up at a hotel somewhere in west London but the few times we’ve had our trysts have been at mine. He is urbane, willing and dare I be critical … sometimes a little too perfunctory. Still, I had no complaints … but since the intimate dalliances or love making with Julius ( as he likes to describe it), I have become reluctant to invite Pieter back to mine. As a testament to his polish, he listened patiently to my demurrer and invited me back to his hotel. Now, it has been some time since I have indulged in hotel sex – it has its own particular mix of sleaze and clinical (read soulless) hygiene that appeals to my prurient side. And so the evening on a late flush of summer sun saw two very satisfied adults having adult and sophisticated fun.
It isn’t something I’m in a hurry to share with Julius, not least because I’m reluctant to cause any uncalled for upset.