COLUMN | The Undateable Gay

Now, I’m not talking a man/dating detox. Oh god, no. I couldn’t do that. It’d be like depriving Dot Cotton of her cigarettes. No, I’m talking a lifestyle detox.

When I stepped on the scales the other morning, they spoke to me, “one at a time please!” For any of you less intellectually-minded people out there, the scales didn’t actually talk. But you get the idea. I’m carrying quite a bit more weight around with me than a few months ago.

So I decided it was time to take action before I become any more undateable than I already appear to be. My lifestyle detox consists of making sure I get eight hours sleep a night, protein shakes, a healthy meal a day, no alcohol (God help me) and definitely no cakes or crap! Wish me luck.

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DAY ONE: I strongly advise anyone partaking in a protein shake diet to carry a packet of extra strong mints with you at all times. Oh my god. The breath. I could have woken the dead with my breath today. The hardest part of my day was on my way home from work. I was filled with sheer excitement at the prospect of a glass of wine and Holby City. And then the reality of my detox hit me like a double decker bus. No wine! I could have cried. So, I got into bed with the hump. Oh well, at least that’s my eight hours sorted.

DAY TWO: I decided I should go for a little swim today. I thought perving on the men in speedos might cheer me up and take my mind off my wine withdrawal. My god, I went dizzier than a fat chav whose been plonked smack bang in the middle of a circular McDonald’s. Note to self; avoid exercise until the lifestyle detox is over.

DAY THREE: I feel an over share coming on. My stomach is more blown up than a balloon arch. I am more constipated than a person whose taken an overdose of Imodium. But on the plus side, I have been waking up with a much clearer head. It must be the enormous amount of sleep I’m getting and the lack of wine consumption.

DAY FOUR: It’s only been three days I know but this morning, I decided to weigh myself. I was feeling that I surely must have shed a few pounds. As I stepped on, the scales told me I was exactly the same weight. Not a single bloody ounce had shed from my body. Oh well, I guess it was a bit soon to be expecting any weight loss. But it didn’t stop me wanting to lob the scales out of the bathroom window. Not that I’m an aggressive gay, you understand.

DAY FIVE: I kid you not, I am actually feeling so much purer inside. (My body, not my mind.) I doubt that’ll ever be pure. Especially after my visit to the sauna. But I feel I may need some anger management sessions soon. You see, Saturday’s are normally my cake and wine day. (Well, that has actually been most days recently but Saturday’s especially.) so there I was getting really excited about the Belgian bun and bottle of Sauvignon I was going to consume when it hit me. Like a ruddy great lightning bolt. I’m on a detox.

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DAY SIX: After an awfully stressful day at work, I made a conscious decision. I need a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. No, not a glass. A whole bottle. So I popped into my little Tesco Express and picked up a bottle. I lashed myself on my faux leather sofa, put on my Prisoner: Cell Block H DVD (so gay, I know) and drank the whole bottle. I’m clearly as successful with detoxing and as I am dating.

 

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About the author: Mark Woollard

Mark David Woollard graduated from Brunel University, West London in 2009 with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Creative Writing and Journalism. Since then, he has written for many publications as a freelance writer. He has been ‘The Undateable Gay’ for The Gay UK magazine since 2015 where he documents his unsuccessful dating life. He wrote an opinion column for the national Student Times, discussing LGBT issues.

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He also writes educational pieces for ‘Massage World’ magazine, giving advice to Reflexologists about treating certain ailments. He authored a novella in 2013 entitled ‘The Fun and Frolics of FIFI a L’Orange’, the crazy adventures of a drag queen.

And is currently working on a series of LGBT books for children and a collection of flash fiction.