in this
form”. Well that was vaguely amusing at least. Her perfect holiday
was “on a beach somewhere”, her favourite film was “The Shawshank
Redemption” and her height was…
Ah. 175 centimetres. A
giantess, in other words, compared to Eoin. Wearing heels that
would make her at least 178, towering over any average-sized
Irishman and his delicate ego. No, that wouldn't do at all. Next
one please.
The next one, astralla, had a
fuzzy photograph showing she was blonde and thin but little else.
Eoin gazed at the thumbnail, realising as he did so that she looked
familiar. He reached for the wine glass with his left hand and took
a mouthful, before moving the pointer over the little image with
the right. He clicked on it and as it zoomed up he spluttered into
his wine.
It was Anja, in all her coy and
smiling glory.
Eoin's mind spun until it
smoked, analysing and plotting and fretting. Okay, he thought,
don't panic, it's not the end of the world. You've found Anja's
dating profile, that's all. She's single, she's out there, it's all
fine and normal. Nothing to worry about, nothing that a jury of
your peers would lock you away for.
Then it occurred to him that
Anja could see the people who'd viewed her profile recently, and
therefore see that he'd found her. Still, what was wrong with that?
He was also single, so there was nothing for him to feel bad or
guilty about. Was there?
He drank some more wine. Wine
would help make sense of things.
Of course, then Anja would
wonder, if Eoin had the time and inclination to be browsing dating
sites, why he hadn't yet called her? Wasn't he interested, or was
he a creep, and then why shouldn't she tell her hot friend that he
was a creep?
On the other hand, if he mailed
her now she'd know he'd only done it because he had been shamed
into it, and that was almost as bad.
It was all too complicated, a
moral and ethical cesspool. “Piss,” Eoin said. “Piss, piss, piss.”
The contents of his wine glass went down in short order. If only he
could ask Alice what to do. But no, Alice was temporarily out of
the picture, and he would just have to fix it himself. He nodded
with determination. Yes, he would fix it himself, that's exactly
what would happen.
First of all, he needed to look
at Anja's profile, so he started with her photo album. There was
one photo showing her wearing sunglasses and a cute blue summer
dress, and three others showing her on various holidays. There was
nothing much on the actual profile, just the usual vapid and
non-threatening stuff that many women thought men wanted to read,
although with a hint of edgy humour.
Her guest book was no different
than any woman's guest book, sprinkled with comments from men such
as “Hi Baby, how are you?” and “You're hot” and even “Let's fuck”.
Eoin was embarrassed that there were men out there who were so
unbelievably dim. Although, it did make him look like a charming
genius in comparison, so it wasn't all bad.
He checked page two of the
guest book, just in case, and suddenly yelped as if he'd been stung
by a wasp. Right there, sandwiched between “Nice ass” and “What's
up honey?” was a comment from none other than Middle Mum. Eoin
pressed his face against the laptop screen until there was no
doubt. It was definitely her.
Middle Mum called herself
RosieCotton and in the tiny photograph she was holding what looked
like a badminton racket. He saw too that it was a recent comment,
from only a few days ago. He leaned back in his chair and tried to
focus, realising that this opened up all kinds of new and tangled
possibilities.
So Middle Mum was single and
dating, or else in a very complicated relationship. And soon she'd
know that Eoin was also active on Diamond Date and had stumbled
upon Anja's profile, since Anja would tell her all about it.
There was only one way to patch
up the situation (besides calling Alice, which he wasn’t going to
do). He topped up his wine glass and settled down to compose
form”. Well that was vaguely amusing at least. Her perfect holiday
was “on a beach somewhere”, her favourite film was “The Shawshank
Redemption” and her height was…
Ah. 175 centimetres. A
giantess, in other words, compared to Eoin. Wearing heels that
would make her at least 178, towering over any average-sized
Irishman and his delicate ego. No, that wouldn't do at all. Next
one please.
The next one, astralla, had a
fuzzy photograph showing she was blonde and thin but little else.
Eoin gazed at the thumbnail, realising as he did so that she looked
familiar. He reached for the wine glass with his left hand and took
a mouthful, before moving the pointer over the little image with
the right. He clicked on it and as it zoomed up he spluttered into
his wine.
It was Anja, in all her coy and
smiling glory.
Eoin's mind spun until it
smoked, analysing and plotting and fretting. Okay, he thought,
don't panic, it's not the end of the world. You've found Anja's
dating profile, that's all. She's single, she's out there, it's all
fine and normal. Nothing to worry about, nothing that a jury of
your peers would lock you away for.
Then it occurred to him that
Anja could see the people who'd viewed her profile recently, and
therefore see that he'd found her. Still, what was wrong with that?
He was also single, so there was nothing for him to feel bad or
guilty about. Was there?
He drank some more wine. Wine
would help make sense of things.
Of course, then Anja would
wonder, if Eoin had the time and inclination to be browsing dating
sites, why he hadn't yet called her? Wasn't he interested, or was
he a creep, and then why shouldn't she tell her hot friend that he
was a creep?
On the other hand, if he mailed
her now she'd know he'd only done it because he had been shamed
into it, and that was almost as bad.
It was all too complicated, a
moral and ethical cesspool. “Piss,” Eoin said. “Piss, piss, piss.”
The contents of his wine glass went down in short order. If only he
could ask Alice what to do. But no, Alice was temporarily out of
the picture, and he would just have to fix it himself. He nodded
with determination. Yes, he would fix it himself, that's exactly
what would happen.
First of all, he needed to look
at Anja's profile, so he started with her photo album. There was
one photo showing her wearing sunglasses and a cute blue summer
dress, and three others showing her on various holidays. There was
nothing much on the actual profile, just the usual vapid and
non-threatening stuff that many women thought men wanted to read,
although with a hint of edgy humour.
Her guest book was no different
than any woman's guest book, sprinkled with comments from men such
as “Hi Baby, how are you?” and “You're hot” and even “Let's fuck”.
Eoin was embarrassed that there were men out there who were so
unbelievably dim. Although, it did make him look like a charming
genius in comparison, so it wasn't all bad.
He checked page two of the
guest book, just in case, and suddenly yelped as if he'd been stung
by a wasp. Right there, sandwiched between “Nice ass” and “What's
up honey?” was a comment from none other than Middle Mum. Eoin
pressed his face against the laptop screen until there was no
doubt. It was definitely her.
Middle Mum called herself
RosieCotton and in the tiny photograph she was holding what looked
like a badminton racket. He saw too that it was a recent comment,
from only a few days ago. He leaned back in his chair and tried to
focus, realising that this opened up all kinds of new and tangled
possibilities.
So Middle Mum was single and
dating, or else in a very complicated relationship. And soon she'd
know that Eoin was also active on Diamond Date and had stumbled
upon Anja's profile, since Anja would tell her all about it.
There was only one way to patch
up the situation (besides calling Alice, which he wasn’t going to
do). He topped up his wine glass and settled down to compose
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