CHAPTER 7 #2
‘Speaking of which,’ Patricia continued, ‘I’ve got you on a suite of dating apps – Tinder, Grindr, Hinge, Bumble, OkCupid – and a couple of wildcards – Christian Mingle, that sexy one for hairy men that I forget the name of, FarmersOnly, the app that’s only for farmers. We’re playing the numbers game here.’
She clicked between a bewildering carousel of dating apps, all showing Jeremy smiling and happy and sitting with Margot Robbie at a press junket.
‘ Looking for love, good banter and someone to share tacos with ,’ he read aloud in a horrified voice, catching sight of the bio Patricia had written for him.
‘Had to guess there, but everyone likes tacos, right?’ She stood up, taking her phone and laptop, then slugged back the rest of the wine she was drinking.
‘Okay, I have to run – I have my own shitty dating life to organise. Good luck, Jeremy! I relate to your struggle a lot because I have also dated men, and it was also a horrible experience.’
She sashayed away from the table while Jeremy dazedly waved, a waft of perfume left in her wake.
‘Wow,’ he said. ‘That was a lot.’
‘Isn’t she great?’ Sam said.
‘This is ridiculous. You’ve done so much work for me … thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me yet – we need to find you a boyfriend first. How about you buy the next round and we’ll get started.’
Jeremy went to the bar and returned with a jug of beer, still rather bemused, only to find Sam already scrolling through Tinder, swiping away.
‘This is great,’ he enthused. ‘There are so many fascinating people in the world. I’ve just swiped on someone who raises goats!’
‘I don’t want to date a goatherd,’ protested Jeremy, but he couldn’t help laughing at Sam’s unbridled enthusiasm for the world of dating apps.
‘He’s also super hot.’ Sam showed Jeremy a photo of a tanned farmer type peering into the sun and holding a squalling goat in one hand.
‘Oh, well that’s all right then,’ conceded Jeremy.
For the next couple of hours, they sat side by side in the booth, laughing and passing their phones and the iPad back and forth, comparing the men they found. Sam, to Jeremy’s delight, was quite good at gently teasing him.
‘So, you’re saying you’re too good for this young man?’ asked Sam, showing a pleasant if slightly vacant-looking guy standing awkwardly near a fish.
‘Under interests it just says fish ,’ pointed out Jeremy.
‘You’d probably learn a lot about fish.’ Sam made a motion to swipe right.
‘Nooo!’ screamed Jeremy in outrage, scrabbling for the phone and swiping left instead. They both laughed.
‘What about this guy?’ asked Sam. ‘He says he is a giraffe scientist and after something serious .’
‘I will literally marry a giraffe scientist here and now,’ Jeremy said.
‘This guy ticks the boxes actually: beautiful, has a PhD in something other than reading books …’
‘A doctorate in giraffes,’ Jeremy said, pointing at the screen. ‘Giraffology?’
‘He’s well dressed in a banker-ish type of way … has a fancy university job.’
‘Great. Add him to the list of blandly handsome doctors and scientists we’re collecting and let’s move on,’ said Jeremy.
Drinks turned into dinner, and after a few hours they were tipsy enough to start swiping with reckless abandon, the collection of eligible gentlemen ballooning from a handful of hotties into hundreds of gays around the country.
‘Swipe, swipe, swipe,’ chanted Jeremy while Sam wheezed with laughter.
‘But he’s, like, a hundred years old and looks like a turtle.’
‘Turtles are super impressive. Do you know how long they can live for? Neither do I, but it’s a long time.’
‘Genuine question,’ said Sam, still looking at the phone in front of him, but with a quaver of intensity in his voice different from the teasing tone he’d been using before.
‘I know we’re looking for a revenge boyfriend now, but what are your real deal-breakers?
What are you actually looking for in a partner? ’
Jeremy bit back a quip most likely featuring puns indicating ‘a huge dick’.
He was feeling close to Sam right now. Outside the pub, it had started raining, but here, in their tiny booth, it felt warm.
They were laughing easily, drinking beer slowly without awkwardness, and along with that comfort and ease there was something a little bit exciting about spending time with Sam.
Perhaps it was just the joy of meeting someone new, rationalised Jeremy, or working on this insane revenge project. The warm glow of spite.
‘I think the most important thing for me is trust,’ said Jeremy, wrinkling his nose at the feeling of being earnest. ‘But I’m also aware trust is impossible to define until it’s broken.’
‘Have you dated much since Miles?’ asked Sam.
‘Not really. For a while I was going on a lot of dates, a lot of hook-ups, but I said goodbye before it got serious with any of them, or before … I guess before I had to trust them,’ admitted Jeremy. ‘At least, that’s what my therapist said. Also, I had a lot of people break up with me.’
‘Okay, new question then. Let’s say you find someone to trust, and someone you’re in love with – maybe one of these handsome scientists. What does that look like? What do you do with them? Is it skydiving and cruises? Five-star restaurants?’
Jeremy smiled, looking at Sam. ‘Yuck, no. And no camping either. I bet you love camping.’
Sam grinned and waved his hand. ‘I have camped, but it’s not that important to me.’
‘Hmm,’ said Jeremy, and before he realised what he was saying, before he could interrogate what he was feeling, he blurted, ‘I’d like to just spend time with someone and enjoy their company, laughing, being stupid, having a drink. Just like tonight.’
He glanced up and saw Sam looking stricken for a moment, unusually intense, holding Jeremy’s gaze with his deep green eyes, before laughing and smiling and cracking the tension like the top of a crème br?lée.