When I was a little girl, I always dreamed of having a testosterone injection.

I’ve decided to take the job with the British documentary company and started doing some research for them today. My adrenalin is pumping. After 2 phone calls to a couple of journalists, I have the cell phone numbers for some of the Cape’s biggest gangsters. I hope these Brits know what they are getting into. I sent the numbers to the producer and said "Nix - not calling them – you can. You don’t have to live here and face the consequences of sticking your hand into a bees nest and shaking it all about". I made a few more calls to various people and am alarmed at how many dodgy people I actually know. When I called a friend of mine who owns a restaurant and started kidding around asking him if he paid protection money, he got very angry with me, warned me not to mess around with things I didn’t know about and hung up.

The phone rang a few minutes later. It was June calling to conduct the hormone questionnaire telephonically. On a scale of 1-5 (1 being minimum and 5 being max):

Fatigue                                                5

Libido                                                  0

Sense of well being                               3

Mood and Motivation                           1

Muscle Strength                                  2

Body Hair                                            2

I decided to take the bull by the horns and proceeded to my local pharmacy for the testosterone shot and was escorted into a room smaller than a shoebox. The pharmacist, Melvin, pulled the curtain closed with a flourish and whisked out a needle the size of a horse’s penis. He instructed me to lift my dress up (if only I had thought this far ahead I wouldn’t have worn my G-string) and gave my bum a crisp whack. “Now that’s a beautiful bum! God you’re gorgeous!” He then started rubbing my cheek muscle vigorously. “This stuff is very thick. It’s going to sting like hell. Ready? 1,2…” He jabbed it in and I lurched forwards yelping. “Sorry darling, thought I’d catch you by surprise. Nearly done.” I left rubbing my bum and my hands, eyeing out every male walking past me trying to assess whether he would be my next shag. If all else failed I could always rely on Mel.

When I got back to the fishbowl there were no hits from the dating site. The only message I had was from MC – the overweight actor who popped in yesterday. This really sucks – having to wait for a man to make first contact. Don’t believe a word when someone says we’re in the 21^st century in which women can make the first move – hogwash – every time I do, it ends in a bloody disaster. But then again, if I don’t take a chance……?

He looks interesting. 'Slow dance – Sensual guy seeks life partner'.

'I am real, compassionate, sincere, fun to be with and enjoy life. I enjoy the outdoors, socializing with family and friends and generally having a good time.'

Fuck it, I'm sending him a message

'Apparently we both like dancing. That's a start'.