Chapter 18
18
I walk through the front door, juggling my keys, my shopping bags and the cheap bottle of white wine I bought myself for my busy night in.
The smell of something cooking hits me immediately, and my stomach drops. Oh God, please don’t tell me Steve’s cooked for me again. Why did I believe him, when he said I could live with him ‘no strings attached’ – all I have done is made myself available for unsubtle persuading to give things another go, 24/7. It’s going to take more than a lasagne, or whatever it is he has cooked – even if it does actually smell pretty great.
As I turn the corner into the living room, ready to launch into some half-hearted excuse, I stop dead in my tracks. Steve is sitting at the dining table, but he’s not alone. Is he on a date? Oh, awkward…
Then I notice the woman next to him. She’s in her early twenties, with lilac hair, and a nose piercing.
Steve jumps up as if I’ve just caught him in bed with her.
‘Oh, Lana, you’re home early,’ he blurts out, his face flushing.
I glance at the clock on the wall. If anything, I’m late.
Oh, this is sad. So, so sad. I see what he’s trying to do, and it’s tragic.
‘It’s okay, I’ve got stuff to do. I’ll just head to my room,’ I say with a smile.
Steve’s relief is theatrical.
‘That might be best,’ he says, his voice a little too eager.
As I walk away, I can’t help but laugh to myself. What is he doing? Trying to make me jealous? Because as attempts go, this one is seriously pathetic.
In the relative safety and privacy of my room, I plonk myself down on the bed with a heavy sigh.
Déjà vu hits me like a tonne of bricks. Here I am, back on the apps – again. After swearing off Matcher only a matter of days ago, I’m now downloading Redflags.
I guess Redflags isn’t technically a dating app, but I’m about to misuse it as one, so same difference, right?
I sign up, and as soon as I’m in, I start scanning the message threads. Curiosity gets the better of me, and the first thing I do is dive into the posts marked with the biggest red flags. Wow. Some men are such creeps. I’m actually really glad this app exists, and I feel a twinge of guilt for making a mockery of it by using it this way, but it’s doing its job because I’m definitely steering clear of these guys.
Instead, I shift to the section with minor flags, where people seem to be having more of a laugh about the dumb things some men are doing on dates. I need someone my family won’t like, but not someone actually bad.
One post catches my eye: Rude with a twist . Intrigued, I click on it. The thread describes a Matcher user named Mike – username BigMikey69, he sounds perfect already – who is apparently mildly rude to everyone. Not great, but the use of ‘mildly’ makes it sound like it could be subtle enough to be funny, in a ‘laughing at him not with him’ kind of way? Maybe? I don’t know, I’ve never picked out a man for his bad qualities, although my dating history might suggest otherwise.
The really interesting fun fact is the ‘twist’ though: the woman who posted about Mike says that he has a bulge in his trousers – a long, hard one that stretches down his thigh, and he not only enhances it with seriously tight trousers but he also likes to sit in a way that showcases it. She says it’s so monstrous, and so emphasised, that she is 100 per cent convinced it’s a cucumber, that there is no way it’s real.
The comments are funny, with lots of people saying they’re going to look him up on Matcher, but everyone generally agreeing that it’s too bizarre and they wouldn’t want to go on a date with him.
Ding, ding, ding (or should that be dong, dong, dong?) – just my type on paper.
BigMikey69 would definitely catch some eyes at the wedding – probably quite literally. The idea of my family trying to work out what to do with their faces, figuring out where to look, and what to say, while I parade around with Mr Cucumber on my arm seems so funny to me – plus, the kind of guy to stuff his trousers is definitely going to be the kind of guy to cause trouble with me.
But to look him up, I’ll have to download Matcher again.
‘This is the last time,’ I tell myself out loud as I reluctantly start downloading the app. I’ve definitely said that before, though.
There’s a knock on my door.
‘Yeah?’ I call out, half-distracted by my phone.
Steve walks in, looking awkward.
‘Sorry if that was uncomfortable for you,’ he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
I stifle a laugh.
‘Steve, it’s fine,’ I assure him.
He hesitates for a second, as though he’s working out what to say next, to get a reaction out of me.
‘I’m ready to move on, and you need to accept that,’ he adds.
I nod, trying to keep a straight face.
‘I have, Steve. Really,’ I insist. ‘I promise.’
He turns to leave but then stops in his tracks. After a moment, he turns back around, looking almost pained.
‘Why don’t you seem remotely bothered that I’m having dinner with another woman?’ he asks, frustrated that his little stunt hasn’t worked.
‘Do you really want to know?’ I ask him.
‘Yes,’ he says, clearly very keen to know where he’s going wrong.
‘It’s because I know that’s your cousin, Steve,’ I say plainly. ‘I remember seeing her in your Facebook photos.’
Steve’s face goes beet red. He stares at me for a second, looking both embarrassed and annoyed, before storming off without another word.
I lie back on my bed, laughing to myself now that I’m alone again. Did he really think that was going to achieve anything? The whole thing is so pathetic, I almost feel bad for him. Almost.