it’s time you moved on, put a toe back in the water.’
‘Rebecca. That guy in Hawksmoor was a dickhead. The stuff he was saying about women over thirty would have been justification alone for me to slap him.’
‘This isn’t about that guy. It’s the …’ she looks at me, then shakes her head, and then says, ‘it’s the Jake thing.’
‘Jake? Jake who? I’m over Jake, if that’s what you’re talking about. Just because I might mention him occasionally doesn’t mean anything. Naturally there are a few things that remind me of him … sometimes. And that’s totally normal after a long-term relationship breaks up, and I’m a lot better than I was six months ago. Don’t you agree?’
‘Well yes, you’re definitely better than you were, but still, I just think it would help you to see that there’s hope out there.’
‘Rebecca. First of all, hope is what kills you …’
‘Stop trying to be funny.’
‘I’m not trying to be funny. There’s nothing funny about the death of hope. I hoped things would work out with Jake. I hoped I wouldn’t waste four of the last good fertile years of my life with someone who ultimately mucked me about and wasn’t who I thought he was. I hoped by my age I’d have found a job I enjoyed. Quite frankly I hoped I’d be married and settled and happy by now, like pretty much everyone else seems to be. And where has all that hope got me?’
‘Susie …’
‘I know your heart’s in the right place and you think you’re helping me. But there’s just something about the whole online dating thing that I cannot bear. Everyone’s a tick box. It’s exhausting. It feels like shopping. And not fun shopping. Not “What’s new in mid-length dresses this week on ASOS?” shopping. More like: “Do you like the right bands? Are you under thirty-five? Do you enjoy watching DVDs? Are you athletic or do you actually mean big-boned?” Are you going to finish that guacamole?’
‘What?’
‘Come on, hand it over if you’re not eating it. If I ever open a burrito restaurant I won’t charge extra for guacamole, it’s just not right,’ I say. ‘Anyway, Rebecca, this whole online dating thing – I simply don’t have time to spend hours wading through a bunch of profile photos of blokes with two thumbs up, standing in the snow. You’re on a mountain. Wow, an actual mountain! No other male has ever been snowboarding ON A MOUNTAIN in the history of the universe …’
‘But you’re more than happy to spend hours looking at Jake’s girlfriend’s Facebook page …’
‘I have
stopped
doing that.’
‘No. You’ve just stopped telling me you’re doing that.’
‘I have not looked at her page for at least two months. And I know for a fact that you looked at Paul’s new girlfriend only three weeks ago. So I win!’
‘Yes, Susie, you win. Well done, doesn’t victory feel great?’ She shakes her head, exhausted. Hurrah, I’ve worn her down!
‘I know lots of happy couples who’ve met online,’ she continues.
No, I haven’t …
‘Look, Rebecca: I am ready to meet someone. I just want to meet him in the real world.’
‘Since I’ve been online, I’ve met more men in the real world too. It helps give off an “I’m not desperate” vibe.’
‘I am not desperate, Rebecca. If I was truly desperate, then I might consider it.’
‘Being online just opens up your options. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘Fine. You’ve said it. I appreciate your concern, truly I do. Now pass the Tabasco please?’
‘I’ve got a date on Saturday with someone from DoingSomething …’
‘Name?’
‘MrSalsa75 … you won’t make that face once you’ve seen what he looks like,’ she says, handing me her iPhone.
‘He’s like a better-looking version of that guy in
True Blood
! Is that his real photo?’
‘There he is surfing on Bondi … that’s him on the day he qualified …’
‘As a surf instructor?’
‘As a lawyer, darling. That’s him with his
‘Rebecca. That guy in Hawksmoor was a dickhead. The stuff he was saying about women over thirty would have been justification alone for me to slap him.’
‘This isn’t about that guy. It’s the …’ she looks at me, then shakes her head, and then says, ‘it’s the Jake thing.’
‘Jake? Jake who? I’m over Jake, if that’s what you’re talking about. Just because I might mention him occasionally doesn’t mean anything. Naturally there are a few things that remind me of him … sometimes. And that’s totally normal after a long-term relationship breaks up, and I’m a lot better than I was six months ago. Don’t you agree?’
‘Well yes, you’re definitely better than you were, but still, I just think it would help you to see that there’s hope out there.’
‘Rebecca. First of all, hope is what kills you …’
‘Stop trying to be funny.’
‘I’m not trying to be funny. There’s nothing funny about the death of hope. I hoped things would work out with Jake. I hoped I wouldn’t waste four of the last good fertile years of my life with someone who ultimately mucked me about and wasn’t who I thought he was. I hoped by my age I’d have found a job I enjoyed. Quite frankly I hoped I’d be married and settled and happy by now, like pretty much everyone else seems to be. And where has all that hope got me?’
‘Susie …’
‘I know your heart’s in the right place and you think you’re helping me. But there’s just something about the whole online dating thing that I cannot bear. Everyone’s a tick box. It’s exhausting. It feels like shopping. And not fun shopping. Not “What’s new in mid-length dresses this week on ASOS?” shopping. More like: “Do you like the right bands? Are you under thirty-five? Do you enjoy watching DVDs? Are you athletic or do you actually mean big-boned?” Are you going to finish that guacamole?’
‘What?’
‘Come on, hand it over if you’re not eating it. If I ever open a burrito restaurant I won’t charge extra for guacamole, it’s just not right,’ I say. ‘Anyway, Rebecca, this whole online dating thing – I simply don’t have time to spend hours wading through a bunch of profile photos of blokes with two thumbs up, standing in the snow. You’re on a mountain. Wow, an actual mountain! No other male has ever been snowboarding ON A MOUNTAIN in the history of the universe …’
‘But you’re more than happy to spend hours looking at Jake’s girlfriend’s Facebook page …’
‘I have
stopped
doing that.’
‘No. You’ve just stopped telling me you’re doing that.’
‘I have not looked at her page for at least two months. And I know for a fact that you looked at Paul’s new girlfriend only three weeks ago. So I win!’
‘Yes, Susie, you win. Well done, doesn’t victory feel great?’ She shakes her head, exhausted. Hurrah, I’ve worn her down!
‘I know lots of happy couples who’ve met online,’ she continues.
No, I haven’t …
‘Look, Rebecca: I am ready to meet someone. I just want to meet him in the real world.’
‘Since I’ve been online, I’ve met more men in the real world too. It helps give off an “I’m not desperate” vibe.’
‘I am not desperate, Rebecca. If I was truly desperate, then I might consider it.’
‘Being online just opens up your options. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘Fine. You’ve said it. I appreciate your concern, truly I do. Now pass the Tabasco please?’
‘I’ve got a date on Saturday with someone from DoingSomething …’
‘Name?’
‘MrSalsa75 … you won’t make that face once you’ve seen what he looks like,’ she says, handing me her iPhone.
‘He’s like a better-looking version of that guy in
True Blood
! Is that his real photo?’
‘There he is surfing on Bondi … that’s him on the day he qualified …’
‘As a surf instructor?’
‘As a lawyer, darling. That’s him with his
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