Chapter 13

13

I’m officially back on the apps.

It’s a tale as old as time: girl meets app, girl swipes right, girl gets disillusioned by the endless stream of underwhelming men and deletes the app in a fit of frustration. But this time, it’s different. This time, I’m not searching for true love, mind-blowing sex or (the most likely option of the three) someone to underwhelm me into swearing off men for life. This time I am a woman on a mission.

Matcher is always the app at the top of the app store. Everyone uses it; it’s as usual to see on a single person’s phone as Instagram is. All the cool kids are on Matcher (and most of them are single).

It’s funny when you think about how movies from a decade ago painted online dating as the last refuge of the desperate – introverts, weirdos, serial killers (and, if you were really unlucky, all of the above). Now, it’s just what you do when you’re single and/or bored. But instead of swiping through the sea of disappointing options with the vague hope of finding something decent, I’m using it with a specific purpose in mind. I’m looking for a grade-A wanker. Matcher’s finest export.

I fill out my profile with a bemused smile, adding a line that I’m sure will raise a few eyebrows:

Love getting into trouble and causing chaos? Want a free holiday to Australia? Drop me a message.

Then I start swiping right. On everyone.

It doesn’t take long for my phone to light up like a Christmas tree. Notifications are coming in faster than I can read them, my phone getting hot from the sheer volume of replies. I expected to get some interest, sure, but this is ridiculous.

Wow, I can’t believe that so many people are actually messaging me, and I have a sneaking suspicion it has less to do with my profile pic and more to do with me offering a free holiday in a cost-of-living crisis.

I start scrolling through the messages, but it’s overwhelming. How am I supposed to sift through all of this? I don’t exactly have time to vet them all, and I definitely don’t want to wade through the typical ‘hey beautiful’ or ‘what’s up’ messages. I need someone who stands out, who screams, ‘I’m the absolute worst, pick me!’

And then, one message catches my eye. It’s from a guy named Joseph. His profile picture shows a cute enough guy – blonde, with his hair long and floppy on top and short on the sides, who wears round-rim glasses that give him a kind of nerdy charm. But it’s the message that hooks me:

I’ll bet you’re getting a lot of messages from a lot of freaks. But I’m the freak you should choose.

I laugh out loud. He might be a freak, but at least he’s a funny one. And that’s more than I can say for most of these guys.

Normally, I’d take my time, maybe chat to him for a few days, before arranging to meet up. But I’m on a schedule, and if I’m going to pull this off, I need to move fast. Besides, the worse he is, the better it is for me, right?

I type out a reply:

You’ve got my attention, Joseph. What makes you the freak I should choose?

It doesn’t take long for him to reply:

Because I’m the kind of guy who sees ‘free holiday’ and thinks, ‘there must be a catch’. And I’m not afraid to find out.

Another laugh escapes me. He’s definitely intriguing, I’ll give him that. I hesitate for only a moment before firing back:

How about we discuss it over a drink? Tonight.

He agrees without hesitation, suggesting a bar in town.

Joseph seems like the right balance, between wild and normal, the kind I can work with. After all, I want someone who can cause trouble, but not someone who will cut me up into a million little pieces.

On Matcher, you just never know if you’re going to meet Magic Mike or Michael Myers.

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