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But—ooh—when it works, it’s gold! Once met this lad, proper fit, eyes like stars. We clicked fast—talked ‘til dawn, swapped daft stories. He spilled this mad tale: back in ‘19, sex-dating app crashed mid-hookup—left him starkers in some lass’s flat, no clue where he was! Had me in stitches, swear down. “Dost thou not see?” he laughed, quoting the film, all “the skin’s a trap.” Made me think—sex-dating’s a gamble, innit? Thou might score, or thou might end up lost, trousers round thy ankles.

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After the storm passes, the sun comes out. It’s like a miracle. The water’s calm again, and I’m feeling like a champ. We head back to the harbor, and I’m grinning ear to ear. I’ve got a decent haul, and Jan’s just grumbling about his bad luck.

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