FabSwingers.com: Nick (43) , Man in Nottingham, East Midlands, UK

A little about me.

My name is Nico.

You're welcome.

That should really be enough, but apparently society has decided that a name and an unjustified level of confidence are no longer sufficient.

So here we are.

I'm a pretty normal, laid-back bloke. I run a tech training company and spend a ridiculous amount of my life travelling around Europe and the Middle East for work. I am a retired Nepalese Navy Commando.

This sounds glamorous.

It isn't.

International business travel is predominantly waking up at 4:15am, forgetting which country you're in and paying [hidden] for scrambled eggs from a hotel buffet while a German businessman called Klaus aggressively eats yoghurt six feet away from you.

Klaus knows what he did.

Outside work, I'm extremely chilled out and don't take myself remotely seriously.

I'm also spectacularly average.

Average height. Average build. Average looks.

If Lidl sold men in the middle aisle, I'd be there between an angle grinder and a suspiciously powerful leaf blower.

NICO — £14.99

Was £17.99.

No obvious reason for the reduction.

Suitable for indoor and outdoor use.

Wipe clean only.

Do not expose to temperatures exceeding 40°C.

May contain traces of disappointment.

3 out of 5 stars.

"Arrived promptly. Bigger than expected but wouldn't connect to Bluetooth."

— Denise, Wolverhampton

Thank you, Denise.

Meeting new people is a bit like navigating that [hidden] J24 mish-mash near Nottingham.

At first it looks confusing, mildly terrifying and you're not entirely sure which lane you're supposed to be in.

Give it a couple of run-throughs and you realise it's actually pretty straightforward.

Occasionally somebody ends up at East Midlands Airport.

These things happen.

A Vauxhall Zafira containing a couple from Mansfield, Gary & Julie, has been circulating continuously since March 2017. The same Gary & Julie who would have held up every departure for every flight from Gatwick to Corfu, had they made it.

They have supplies.

Do not attempt a rescue.

Some of you may recognise me from clubs around Nottingham, Derby and Leicester.

If you see me elsewhere, feel free to say hello.

Pub? Absolutely.

Supermarket? Fine.

Petrol station? Bit weird, but I'll allow it.

Dentist?

Let's see how the appointment develops.

Funeral?

Read the f***ing room, Susan.

And please don't approach me while I'm working and loudly announce:

“I KNOW YOU FROM FAB!”

I have spent years convincing clients that FAB stands for the Federation of Applied Business.

It doesn't.

There is no Federation of Applied Business.

I am currently its Managing Director.

Membership enquiries are closed.

I don't hide my face because I own the company and I'm therefore unlikely to sack myself.

HR have nevertheless been informed.

Unfortunately, HR is also me.

Following an extensive independent investigation conducted by myself into allegations concerning myself, I have found myself entirely innocent.

Frankly, the accusations were outrageous.

I have awarded myself £75 compensation, two additional days' annual leave and a Toblerone.

I appealed.

I have now received two Toblerones.

Justice.

I also genuinely look like my photographs.

Admittedly, that's not necessarily the selling point I intended it to be.

Sorry.

Thinking aloud again.

I generally don't randomly message people.

I'll usually leave a like or cheeky wink and let you decide whether you'd like to say hello.

Think of it as a very low-budget wildlife documentary.

"Here we see the Nico in his natural habitat.

Notice how he approaches cautiously.

He leaves a small digital signal of interest before retreating into the undergrowth.

The female has not responded.

The Nico will now make a sandwich.

Nature is magnificent."

David Attenborough has been contacted for comment.

His solicitor responded.

I do occasionally appear in the chatrooms.

I contribute enormously to the intellectual discourse.

Previous contributions include:

“Generic observation [INSERT NAME].”

“Interesting point [INSERT NAME].”

“I disagree, but respect your constitutional right to be wrong [INSERT NAME].”

It's essentially Oxford Union debating, except somebody called [hidden] keeps asking whether anyone's near Droitwich.

Nobody is near Droitwich, Dave. Only the fictitious people who wrote in and complained to the BBC programme 'Points of View' were from Droitwich.

Anyway, I'm friendly, house-trained and capable of holding a conversation. Just about.

I can cook.

I know which way round a fitted sheet goes.

I've assembled IKEA furniture without threatening my immediate family with a screwdriver.

I put the little plastic divider down after my shopping at Aldi so the person behind me can start unloading.

I return my trolley.

I don't stand immediately in front of train doors while people are trying to get off.

I do the "ping" thing with microwaves.

I understand that “could of” is not actually English.

I've never purchased a book entitled The Alpha Male Mindset.

I don't have a photograph of myself leaning against somebody else's Lamborghini.

I don't describe everything I vaguely disagree with as “woke”.

I don't have a podcast.

Nobody needs another podcast.

I once successfully cancelled a free trial before they charged me.

I don't like to talk about it.

My hobbies include travelling, cooking, inappropriate humour, learning completely useless information and opening the fridge approximately six times in the hope that new food has spawned.

It hasn't.

I've checked. Six times.

I also enjoy standing in the kitchen eating grated cheese directly from the packet at 1am like a raccoon.

This is between us.

I recently discovered that “pothole” is one word.

I'd wondered about that for years.

Nobody else seemed concerned, and neither was I as it seems. Well, not enough to just type it into Google and get the correct spelling.

This is symptomatic of a wider decline in standards.

I've written to the council.

They misunderstood the nature of my complaint and filled one in.

So technically I have improved Nottinghamshire.

You're welcome.

If you've made it this far, you've now invested approximately three minutes of your finite existence reading the thoughts of a stranger on the internet.

Those minutes are gone.

You will never get them back.

One day, perhaps many years from now, you'll be lying peacefully in bed surrounded by loved ones.

You'll think about everything you've accomplished.

The places you've visited.

The friendships you've made.

The people you've loved.

And somewhere, faintly, from the deepest recesses of your memory:

Klaus will still be eating that yoghurt.

Anyway.

Say hello if you fancy it.

Or don't.

I'm not your supervisor.

Stay safe.

Drink water.

Floss occasionally.

Check your smoke alarms.

Never trust a seagull.

If somebody says “with all due respect”, prepare to receive absolutely no respect whatsoever.

Never buy sushi from a petrol station.

And if Google Maps tells you to take the third exit at M1 Junction 24:

May God have mercy on your soul.

Nico x

P.S. Chuck Norris invented every colour in the world except pink.

Pink was invented by Tom Cruise.

P.P.S. Keith has been asked to leave.

P.P.P.S. You don't know Keith.

That's probably for the best.

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