Where have all the gentlemen gone? – GUEST BLOG | Scouse Bird Problems

A guest blog by @prinnybloggers – from my experience she has a point, where are they all hiding? SHOW YOURSELVES! XOXO Scouse Bird

‘Where have all the gentlemen gone?’

Don’t get me wrong; I am all for equality but there is one big question that has been lingering in my mind lately, mainly: ‘Where have all the gentlemen gone?’ In the day in age where a man would rather shove you under a train than let you get a seat before him, it really gets you thinking.

Looking back to when the Titanic sank and it was women and children first, these days you’d be elbowed into the Atlantic quicker than you could say ‘Are you messin?’ so they could get a seat on that lifeboat before you! So what has happened to the demise of the gentleman and really; where have all the gentlemen gone?

This topic got me thinking about some of the first dates I’ve been on with these so called ‘gentlemen’ ….

First there was the date with Mr Suave who treated me like a prinny all night, opened doors for me, paid for everything, leaving hefty tips wherever we went. Then we go back to his hotel room (I know I know, it was a nice hotel in my defence!) only for him to start doodling on the pad by the phone. OOOOH could this be a little love note I thought to myself as he turns to me all made up with his masterpiece and hands me the pad,  nope, it was a picture of a c*ck yes ladies a c*ck. Ermmm what’s all that about please? Needless to say I knocked that one on the erm, head!

Then there was Mr Tight Ar$e who made Mr Suave look like my knight in shining Hugo Boss. So I decided to do my bit and make a good impression on the first date by offering to get a few drinks in; BIG MISTAKE! When half way through the night, as we are running low on drinks he goes ‘Is it my round?’ – Mate, EVERY round is your round, it’s a first date! To add insult to injury after quickly making my excuses to go home, I offer him money for the taxi (more than the fare) which he gladly accepted. Someone made a profit from that date and it certainly wasn’t me!

Finally there was Mr look at my t*ts (no really stop looking at my t*ts!) who had the personality of a kitten heel. After enduring the conversation or lack of for what seemed like an eternity I catch him full on staring at my t*ts. I will let that one go I thought to myself. Then I catch him doing it again. As I turn to give him my best snarl, to my horror he doesn’t look away so I am forced to say in my strongest scouse accent ‘Are you f*ckin messin!’ To which he seemed completely shocked and replied ‘What, am I not allowed to look at you like that?’ – Not on a first date Romeo!

And there we have it – The Gentlemen of today!

Unfortunately girls, as I am sure you all well know; this is just the tip of the iceberg!

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