Chapter Three #2
I scanned the empty office. I’d been too engrossed in my own project to notice that everyone else had left.
‘Let’s see then,’ Katy said, barging over to Zola’s desktop.
‘Oooh, yeah, show us what you’ve got, Zo,’ I enthused, sliding my chair over.
‘Welcome to .?.?. drum roll, ladies .?.?.’ She tapped her hands off the desk as I giggled beside her. ‘ The Dicktionary Club!’ Zola announced as she let out an evil laugh.
‘Oh my God,’ I squealed.
‘We can change the name,’ she suggested. ‘I just thought it was fitting.’
‘No, I love it,’ I admitted.
‘Yup, works for me,’ Katy said.
We both looked on, eagerly awaiting the virtual tour.
‘So, this is the home page,’ Zola said.
I glanced down at the cute girly-pink background with red edging.
The Dicktionary Club was written in an elegant font, like an invitation to a Gatsby party, but she had replaced the ‘i’ in ‘dick’ with a golden aubergine.
‘I’ll add a brief introduction explaining what the page is about, blah blah blah, but the coolest part is here: I’ve managed to sync every guy from every dating app in Glasgow to our search engine. And it’s age specific.’
‘Every dating app?’ Katy gasped at Zola’s skills.
‘Yep, well, the most popular ones. I haven’t delved into the niche apps yet, but I can do that in time.
So, basically, you can search a guy’s first name here, then select the age range, and if he has a dating profile on Tinder, Bumble, Plenty of Fish or Hinge he will appear.
There is nowhere these fuckboys can run now, girls. ’
‘Can we click and review one now?’ Katy asked.
Zola smiled mischievously as her finger hovered over the search button, scanning through the thumbnails of photographs.
‘We could look up anyone. Poor Toby, what about him? Or Andrew there?’ She was picking out pictures of random men on the screen.
‘Do Mark, Zola. Search for Mark. He’s thirty!’ Katy interrupted impatiently from behind us. She was bopping up and down like a toddler.
‘OK, let’s have a look, then,’ Zola said. She typed his name into the search engine and scrolled down the surprisingly large amount of Marks in the city until, lo and behold, his Tinder profile popped up.
I turned to my friend and grinned. ‘You are a fucking genius, Zola! What the fuck?!’
Zola nodded. ‘Totally, right? Oh wait, this is my favourite part – I’ve added a feature which means we can rate them in flags. Green for nice, amber for hmmm .?.?. he’s all right, pink for a bit of a dick or crimson red for watch out, girls, this one’s a massive cunt.’
‘CRIMSON RED! Massive cunt, please!’
We all burst out laughing.
Zola clicked on the red flag, and a small questionnaire dropped down.
Date of meet-up, how it went, the man’s interests, any warning signals to look out for, a brief description of the date and, lastly – for top-tier members only – penis size (an estimate was fine).
‘Zola, this is insane!’ I gasped. ‘How did you do all of this in one day?’
She sat back, proud of her work. ‘I had all this spy software left over from another project in London, but I sync’d it to Glasgow and downloaded the codes.’
‘Ermm .?.?. OK , that means nothing to me, but it’s class! Like seriously, this could be a massive hit.’
‘Yeah, I agree, but you two will have to date A LOT before we make it public and you also need to go back and rate all your previous dates. We need some content! We can obviously get our users to provide their experiences too, but we will have to have a fair few rated before it goes live. There’s no point in advertising the website if there’s no juice on any of the men, you get me? ’
I gulped down nervously at the thought of dating – even if it was only fake dating.
‘Just think of how many women could catch their partners cheating too!’ Katy stated.
‘I know, it’s as easy as a search bar,’ I said. ‘No more second-guessing. No more wasting your life on idiot detective work.’
‘And think how many crazy men it will help avoid. You know, I think that’s the most important point here.
I’ve added a full tab on the dangers of internet dating and put a link to Clare’s Law in case anyone wants to ask the police for information on their partner for domestic violence or abuse reasons.
Just some general guidelines and advice. ’
I beamed, squeezing Zola’s shoulders, unbelievably impressed with her work.
‘So, will we be charging for access? Did we decide?’ I asked. My brain was still alcohol-foggy from the night before.
‘We should, but not a lot. A fee will help to avoid any trolls writing information on someone that’s not true.
We have to be careful of that. Maybe something small, like a fiver?
It will cost us to keep the website active and moderated, and I honestly think we should patent the idea so no one can steal our genius site. ’
‘Yeah, that’s fine. How much will we have to pay to start it up?’
Zola hummed ‘Roughly, I reckon, like three, four hundred each?’
I recoiled a little. Jesus, I really had to nail my campaign or being out a job and four hundred quid down in the space of a month would put me out of my home and on to my arse.
‘I’ll transfer you now,’ I agreed.
‘Me too,’ Katy said, pulling out her phone.
‘I’ve also downloaded an entry form to gain access. I’ve ensured that no men can just decide to hop on and write positively about themselves. So, women have to apply to be a member and we vet them first. This has to be a strictly women-only. The Dicktionary Club is a cock-free zone.’
‘Jesus, we’ve created a secret society here!’ I turned to my pals excitedly.
‘No, we’ve created the ultimate prick list,’ Zola confirmed.
Together we hugged, laughing and screaming in delight. I could feel my heart bounce off my chest in anticipation.
‘Well, the hard part is done on my end, ladies,’ Zola said. ‘Now it’s time for you two to start dating! And I can tune up the other features over the next few days,’ she added.
My nerves returned in an instant, and I glanced towards Katy with a pleading look. ‘You’re going to have to show me the ropes.’
‘Pass me your phone, Ella Banks,’ she said. ‘You’ve got some serious swiping to do!’