Sexual tension.

Ahhh sexual tension. One of my favourite friends. Making food shopping, friendship and late night meetings with your dissertation supervisor all the more exciting (oh no, that’s just me?)

The best thing about sexual tension is the excruciating build up and wait. Nearly as exciting as the four months run up to Christmas. However, to the guy walking down the street asking me “what was I on”... (a bench) I’m afraid that’s no way to get this chicken roosting. Use some charm, flutter those eyelashes at me and for heaven’s sake please try address me by my name or something other than “girl”.

In a club... When that guy is rubbing his junk all up on your groin let me assure you that it is not sexual tension flowing through your body that you’re feeling. In my experience it’s probably rohypnol. Now the feelings are similar but the results may vary so please try and watch your drinks, ladies.

But on a serious and more politically correct note (I always find rohypnol jokes are often hard to swallow... get it... hmmm) anyway, half of the excitement about attraction and crushes and sexual tension is that build up and anything less than a good couple of weeks just won’t do it for me! I want their touch to bring shivers and their mere thought to force me to bite my lip to stop a smile from spreading across my face!

Take that friend you wait five years of “will they won’t they” and denying that there is any “spark” between you. Five years of girlfriends, boyfriends and setting each other up. Of accidently brushing each others’ hands or “accidently” leaning over the table with your top button wide open and your bust fit to burst. (it wasn’t accidental and it wasn’t successful unfortunately!) That is a case of ultimate sexual tension and the results will be just as good as the wait...

Until you start sleeping with each other more regularly and then you suddenly find yourself in some sort of relationship... And so... you stop taking each other’s calls and build up that sexual tension again for another 5 years.

You see when you have sex it can kind of kill that tension and I end up thinking about whether I have enough ‘Surf’ powder to do my next wash or whether I put the cat out. Well I think it gets killed if after you have your wicked way there are no residual feelings left to keep that sexual tension going. I’m Columbus and I’ve conquered the new world but now I’m a bit bored and kind of miss my lasagne.

So next time you’re leaning over the fruit shelves in Sainsbury’s you could be the next victim of the man across the aisle leering at your melons. But for your sake, I hope not.