Feast or famine

I've now become one of them, you know, those women juggling different men, and referring to them by occupation, location, marital status, citizenship, race, or any other identifiable feature. Given that I have not slept with them, neither of them can be referred to as "The guy with the small dick". That's good, for now. 

 

But the bad thing with the Date Juggle is you're constantly bumping men around in positions of one, two, and three, on the most futile of reasons. Asinine comment? You go to the bottom of the heap. Drive a nice car? Up the top. Pay for dinner? Guaranteed top spot for at least a week.

 

Even though it is just casual dating, the absolute worst part is feeling like you are whoring yourself; sharing the history of your life with random strangers in the hope that maybe, just maybe, this stranger might become something more. And then when one of them asks what your plans are for the weekend, well, you already have plans...