Chapter 1

1626 Words
1 Thursday 14 November The whole ‘dating’ scene isn’t something I ever thought I’d be involved with. There’s a part of me which thinks dating apps are somewhat crude and soulless. After all, all you see is a name, age and a photo and you’re asking to swipe right, indicating you’d totally marry this guy based on those three things or swipe left, consigning him to oblivion as not even worth speaking to because he’s six months too old or dared to wear sunglasses while having his photo taken. Another part of me realises that’s the way things have been done for years, anyway. If you spot someone in a bar or pub you know nothing about them. Even less than you do on these apps, in fact. At least with the app you know their name and age before you talk to them. And who wants to date a Kevin? Maybe I’ve just been out of the game too long. It’s definitely easier than going out to meet people, and means I can at least vet them before having to come face to face with them. That’s something I’ve been grateful for on more than one occasion recently. I’ve been using Tinder for about three weeks now. I’ve not met up with anyone from it, but I will. There’ve been plenty who’ve managed to rule themselves out of the running, though. Guys who open with cheesy chat-up lines get unmatched immediately. Anyone who mentions s*x inside the first three messages meets a similar fate. I’m talking to two at the moment. Finn is 32. He calls himself an ‘Irish stallion’, but the conversation is dull. I didn’t realise he’d be as scintillating to talk to as an actual horse. Ryan is 29, apparently, although I’d put him north of 35. The age thing doesn’t bother me, but the lying does. Still, he reckons he’s 29 and I’m not about to ask for his birth certificate. In any case, he’s started to get sleazy and ask about my bedroom preferences, so he won’t last much longer. I decide to go back to the main screen on the app and see who else is about. The first few are definite left swipes. Topless photos are always a no-no, as are people called Gary. But I swipe right on a couple, too. I’ve got a thing for nice eyes. I think you can tell a lot by looking into someone’s eyes. I guess there’s a reason they call them the windows to the soul. There are some guys who have those ‘serial killer eyes’ that you can’t quite explain, but which everyone recognises. And others have a cheeky little glint, almost as if the niceness is trying to push through. Tom’s eyes are warm, inviting. And there’s a definite cheeky glint. I swipe right on him, and a new screen pops up telling me it’s a match. Tom had already swiped right on me in the past. That means we’re now able to talk to each other. I think about what to say to him. I’m not good with openers. I don’t want to go down the boring ‘Hi’ route, but what else is there to say to someone you don’t know but are expected to speak to? This is why us women tend to let guys make the first move. They seem to know what to do. Well, some of them do. I have a closer look at his profile for some inspiration. Maybe there’s something on there I can lead in with. It doesn’t say much, though. Positive, open-minded and friendly. Still seeking the yin to my yang. I know she can’t be far off. Maybe it’s you? Perhaps a little cheesy and unoriginal, but there’s something I like about that. He doesn’t come across as trying to be something he’s not, unlike 90% of the guys on Tinder who claim to be surfing vegan martial artists who visit sixty countries a year and go to the gym every three hours. If that was the case, local leisure centres and the departures lounge at Luton Airport would be reclassified as zoo exhibits for the male of the species. While I’m still thinking of what to say to Tom, a message pops up on the screen. He got there first. That’s no bad thing, and at least it shows he has some confidence in making the first move. Hi Grace! Gorgeous photos, especially the one with the butterfly dress. It’s an Apricot one, isn’t it? x I feel my eyebrows flick upwards, momentarily and voluntarily. This guy knows what he’s doing. I’m impressed. So which are you, fashion designer or drag artist? x He’s keen. I see the three dots appear on the screen almost immediately, which tells me he’s already composing a reply. After a few seconds, it appears. Haha - neither I’m afraid. I was a friend of mine’s ‘shopping buddy’ for a while and I think I’ve probably memorised every dress in that shop x I have a little chuckle at the thought of him being dragged around shopping centres, laden with bags while his friend tries on every dress in sight. Always on the lookout for a bag carrier. So is it a good thing or a bad thing that I reminded you of your friend? :P x Can’t go wrong with a cheeky little tongue-sticky-out face. At least it shows I’m only teasing. She’s got a boyfriend now so I’ve been relieved of my duties. And relieved is definitely the right word! You remind me of lots of things, but I’m not about to wheel those old lines out. I’d put you off your breakfast. Much planned for the day? x Just work, I type. I’m not sure whether that’s preferable to listening to cheesy chat-up lines or not. It’s a tough one… What do you do for a living? x I lock my phone for a moment or two and make another cup of tea. Glancing at the clock, I reckon I’ve got plenty of time for another before I have to leave and catch my train. While the kettle’s on, I decide to do a bit of washing up. The little boiler on the wall creaks and groans like a teenager I’ve just woken up and asked to warm the water by hand. Still, I can’t complain. The cost of this place is actually pretty good for this part of the south east. Even though I’m just outside of London, not too far down the road they’re renting out cupboards for two grand a month. It’s still far from being manageable on my own, though. Since Matt and I split up, my parents have been covering his half of the mortgage. They didn’t need to, but they’ve always been incredibly supportive. They know I couldn’t get anywhere else near work for the same sort of money. Not in a million years. If I moved further north I’d spend my life commuting and would spend any money I’d saved on travel. Besides which, this is my home. I’ve always lived in the area, and I’ve become attached to my little house. Sure, I could take on a lodger or a housemate, but they’d be a complete stranger. Everyone I know is partnered off and has their own place. This place was ours. Mine and Matt’s. Well, it was always mine on paper. His credit score was so shot to pieces, and his income so low, it was actually better not to have his name on the mortgage. But it doesn’t feel right moving a stranger in, even after what he did. Besides which, it’s a tiny one-bedroom house and I can’t ask someone to pay half the mortgage and then pop them on a camp bed in the living room. I pour my cup of tea and check my phone. There’s another message on Tinder from Tom. I’m a sales manager for a tech security firm. We provide computer security gear for companies all over the world. All pretty boring, but good fun x I think that’s the first and last time I’ll see the words ‘computer security gear’ and ‘good fun’ in the same paragraph. Nice! Does that involve lots of travel? x As soon as I send the reply I start to question myself. Will he think I’m trying to work out whether he’ll be around much? I don’t want to sound as if I’m already sussing him out for long-term relationship potential. Before I can worry too much, the reply comes in. Some, but nothing too heavy. What do you do? x In a way, I’m glad Tom didn’t tell me he was a fireman or a brain surgeon, because I always struggle to make my job sound interesting. I love it, though, and I guess that’s the main thing. I work in events management. Again, pretty boring but good fun ;) x I don’t know what made me wheel out the winking face emoji, but it felt right. Again, I worry that he’ll get the wrong end of the stick and associate it with the ‘good fun’ comment. Oh well. If he starts to get randy I’ll kick him into touch with the others. Sounds interesting! By the way, if you want to move to w******p or something at any point, I’m on 07700 900624. Tinder can be a bit unreliable with messages sometimes! No pressure though x I smile at this. He’s not the first person to suggest swapping numbers fairly early on, but he’s got a good point. The app does have a habit of crashing or losing access to messages. And anyway, he seems alright. I save the number in my phone as a backup but decide to stick to Tinder for now. Thanks - will save for future reference ;) Anyway, better dash now. Long day ahead. Chat later? x The reply comes within a few seconds. Definitely. Looking forward to it already xx
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