Red Flag, Proceed.

Red Flag, Proceed.

Red flag, proceed.

A red flag generally means "impending disaster, stay away" but if you’re a seasoned dater you’ll know there is a sliding scale and not all red flags are bad, in fact, some make for good stories.

Full disclosure we are not talking about the scary, serious red flags, there is no sliding scale when it comes to them. We are talking about the red flags that do no harm except cause a stitch when you laugh about them with your friends during the weekly gossip sesh.

Back in my days of being a clown, I used to hook up with this absolute wildcard of a man, let's call him Bendy P. When it came to Bendy P there was no rule book, he would either go full Casanova, shower me in love and give me his undivided attention or he would revert back to his natural instincts of being a grunting Neanderthal who had no concept of foreplay.

If you’re thinking “holy demon” honestly, same sis.

But regardless of Bendy P’s demon vibes and lack of foreplay knowledge, I continued to sneaky link with him every so often for the pure fact that I was going through a demon energy stage myself and relished in the fact that he was simply there for the plot and not the main storyline - which gives us category: Living La Vida Loca on the red flag sliding scale.

So, there we were one night in mint sneaky link conditions. The night was young, we were both tipsy and I got a Snapchat from him, “Up to?”

Yeah nice, I thought. Simple but effective. “Just got home,” I replied playing it hella cool. “Same,” he said. Then somewhere between a couple of logistical DM’s, a quick shower, and swift - but sexy, lingerie change, I was in an Uber on the way to his with the promise of not only a feed of Maccy D’s but a reason to remember to take my birth control pill the next morning.

The ideal conditions however took a turn when I got to his place to see him waiting outside in a Birkenstock and socks combo and no Maccy D bag insight. No worries, I thought. The Jesus sandals will come off at some point and my greasy feed is probably waiting for me on the bedside table, so I took his hand and followed him down the yellow brick road.

The greasy feed was not waiting for me because he had eaten it giving us category: hangry and horny on the red flag sliding scale. How on earth was I meant to engage in hot girl activities on an empty stomach? And just in case that wasn’t a big enough red flag, where my highly anticipated McD’s should have been was a 2L gym rat drink bottle - revealing category: let me lift you like I lift weights, baby on the red flag sliding scale.

I wish more than anything this was satire but unfortunately, I had officially arrived in flop town, population: Me and Bendy P.

Over the time Bendy P and I hooked up there were a few more red flags that joined the party, most fell into the harmless category of the sliding scale and resulted in A+ stories to share with my gal pals over a cheeky vino - like the time he tried to brainstorm a column topic with me and said I should write about how good he is at foreplay.

He truly was the moment.

The point is my GGO Queens, dating and hookups can be daunting, scary, and downright flop jobs which is why you have to find the fun in it and joke about these harmless red flags. Keep it light, have fun and remember, if it works out, great, if not, it’s for the plot.

And if the red flag crosses into the category: he needs therapy, boost your lil butt out of there.

— By Lillie Rohan.



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