Everything I know about meeting people for this comes from one sort of platform, because it is the one a friend put me on in my first month and I never looked any further. Five years later I have no idea whether the way I do this is normal or simply the habits of a single product. That is an odd thing to realise about a substantial part of your life.
Thirty one, Brooklyn, submissive. Five years, two arrangements, one of them good and one of them educational.
So this advert is partly an experiment. I am writing somewhere I have never written, in a form I have never used, to find out whether a different sort of place produces a different sort of person. I will report back to the friend either way.
What I want has not changed: an ongoing dynamic with structure, a fixed evening, expectations that hold on ordinary days, and somebody who says what they mean the first time rather than the third.
Not looking for anybody who wants to be my guide to the whole of this city. Not looking to be told my five years do not count because they all happened in one place. And not looking for anyone who cannot say what they want without three paragraphs of throat clearing first.