Читать книгу Not That Easy - Radhika Sanghani - Страница 8

It was Saturday night and Lara and Emma were sprawled across me on the sofa. I’d explained my plan to them with generally positive receptions, and now we were figuring out a way for me to meet my prospective sexual partners.

‘Ow, Ellie, move your elbow, I can’t see the screen,’ said Lara. I shifted my elbow, splashing rosé on the new third-hand sofa.

‘Oops,’ I said. ‘I should probably clean that up.’

‘No! This is the reason we got a black sofa, remember?’ said Emma. ‘Ignore it and type in the website already.’

‘OK, OK,’ I said. ‘But shouldn’t I be getting Tinder instead of going on a dating site? I feel a bit old-fashioned.’

‘Noooo,’ cried Emma. ‘I don’t care what everyone says—Tinder is still a sex app.’ Lara opened her mouth, but Emma ignored her. ‘I know that’s how everyone met their new boyfriends or whatever, but every guy I know still thinks of it as a way to get quick hook-ups. Like, you don’t even have to fill in any info on it. It’s totally judged on your looks. At least with an online site you have to make a bit of an effort.’

‘But I’m OK with casual hook-ups,’ I pointed out. ‘That’s kind of why I’m doing this.’

‘Oh fine, get Tinder.’ Emma sighed. ‘Just do this as well. Please? For me?’

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Tinder can be my backup if this fails. So which online site shall I join?’

‘Definitely OKCupid,’ said Lara. ‘I’ve heard Plenty Of Fish is more of a sex-only site. Besides, I’m on OKC and I’ve seen so many normal people on there. There’s an option where you can search for people who have degrees—it’s amazing. One week I only searched for people who have PhDs.’

‘Exactly,’ cried Emma. ‘On Tinder you have no idea what anyone does, so you could end up going on a date with some old perv, or a chav with shaved eyebrows who works in construction.’

‘What’s wrong with construction workers?’ I asked, semi-offended. ‘One of my uncles in Greece is a builder.’

‘Oh my God, no, I don’t hate all builders,’ said Emma. ‘I love when the hot ones go topless. But I’m talking about the sexist ones who yell out “Oi, sexy” at girls on the street. You know?’

I shook my head at her. ‘You do realise that’s, like, the most ancient stereotype ever, and you’re just as bad admiring their abs?’

‘No, I get what you mean, Emma,’ said Lara. ‘You want to date someone on your level, which is why OKC is great.’

I raised an eyebrow at her, wondering when my friends had got so snobby. I’d be happy shagging a homeless guy so long as he was hot and chlamydia free.

‘I mean, I still get my fair share of messages from chavs with topless selfies who spell “your” and “you’re” wrong,’ continued Lara. ‘And quite a few just asking me when I’m free to fuck them … But I’ve also seen so many people I know on there, and loads of them went to uni, which makes me think we would at least have stuff in common.’

‘So have you gone on any dates?’ I asked her, knowing she would have already told me if she had.

‘Well, I’m still casually seeing Jez, but I started panicking I was wasting my prime years by dating a weed addict with commitment issues, so … I went on three last month,’ she replied.

‘Oh my God,’ I shrieked. ‘Three dates and you didn’t tell me? What the fuck, Lara?’ She hadn’t told me about breaking Jez’s penis either. Why was Lara hiding things from me?

She blushed. ‘I guess … Oh, I don’t know, I was kind of scared you’d judge me for being on a dating site.’

‘Judge you?! Hello, I’m the girl who stuck a bottle of bubble bath up her vagina and didn’t know you could get chlamydia from blow jobs.’

She snorted. ‘Yeah, fair point. Have you got rid of the chlamydia by the way?’

‘The doctor gave her some pills. She’s fine,’ interrupted Emma. ‘Anyway, I’m done with talking about STIs. Lara, tell us your dating stories.’

‘No, wait! First, tell me why you thought I’d judge you,’ I said, ignoring Emma’s frustrated sighs. I still felt weird Lara hadn’t said anything about all this. Oh God—maybe it was because she felt she couldn’t because I’m so virginal and new to sex?

Lara fidgeted on the sofa. ‘Oh, I don’t know, I guess just because most people who use dating sites are old, so I was a bit nervous you’d all think I was desperate or that it was a bit weird. But it just makes so much sense to date online,’ she said. ‘Like, you don’t have to bother with the cringeness of going to a bar and hoping you meet someone, then being depressed if you don’t. Or the pathetic hope that every cute guy on a park bench will come and ask you out.’

I nodded in support, trying to prove that I was exactly the sort of person she could have told all of this to earlier. ‘Totally. This is definitely the way I’m going to find my next shag as well. I don’t even have to leave my sofa or dressing gown to find a man. This site was made for me.’

‘So you really only want one-night stands and not a boyfriend?’ asked Emma.

‘Yeah, I think so. It took me so long to lose my virginity that now I just feel like I have all this lost time to make up for. I want to get out there and have amazing sex with different people. I like sex—well, the little I’ve had of it. But it wasn’t particularly fun, and I’m so ready for that. I feel like it’s God’s gift to us, to get orgasms and have a bit of fun while global warming is tearing the planet apart.’ The girls looked baffled. ‘I just want to have my slutty phase already.’

‘Slutty phase?’ asked Lara with a raised eyebrow. ‘You know how I feel about the word “slut”, Ellie. It shows the double standards society has for men and women. He’s a player, she’s a slut, etc. You know how it goes. Can’t you find a different word?’

‘No,’ cried Emma. ‘It’s all about reclaiming the word “slut”. Like, it essentially means someone who has sex a lot, so why is that a bad thing? It shouldn’t be gendered, obviously, but we can just use it for men and women. If we call ourselves sluts, it loses its negative meaning. We need to re-appropriate it so it’s a positive word for someone embracing their sexuality and their, like, libido.’

‘Um, I’m lost,’ I said.

‘OK, like, if I start saying “Ah, that girl is so slutty” with admiration instead of judgement, it gets rid of all the connotations the word has. And even better if we start calling guys sluts too.’

Lara looked impressed. ‘I had no idea you were so passionate about this, Em.’

She grinned. ‘Well, as a former slut, it’s a topic that’s pretty close to my heart. I heard enough guys calling me a slut growing up, and each time I let it hurt me, before I realised I could just make that word mean whatever I want. When I decided slut meant “hot, sexually confident, empowered woman”, it didn’t hurt as much.’

I nodded enthusiastically. ‘I did the exact same thing with “virgin”. Like, it used to make me feel frigid and ugly and left out. Until I had sex and then I realised it didn’t have to mean that. It could just be a factual word for not ever having been penetrated.’

‘Um, I think that’s how most people already use it, Ellie,’ said Lara.

‘No, what about “you look like a friendless virgin”?’ I asked. ‘Or “oh my God, you virgin weirdo”. Those are insults. It’s the same as “slut”. Emma’s so right, we should totally redefine it.’

‘Yeah,’ cried Emma. ‘Being a slut doesn’t have to make you feel any of that patriarchal bollocks where you’re cheap and dirty. It can make you feel powerful, carefree and in control. Fuck it, Ellie, go be a slut.’

‘Oh, I fully intend to. I want to meet up with these OKC dates and start shagging my way across central London.’

Emma cried out, ‘Ah, you’re making me so nostalgic for my single past. I miss the days of waking up and trying to figure out how to get back home from whatever bit of London I was in. I used to love the crazy stories. Did I tell you I once got a tattoo during a one-nighter?’

Lara and I exchanged shocked glances. ‘Um. No?’

‘I met him in a club.’ She grinned. ‘Just some random guy, but his flatmate was a tattoo artist. We biked back to Dalston—I sat on the handlebars. We were so fucked on MDMA that when we got back to his and his flatmate offered to give me a tattoo, I agreed.’

‘Well, where is it?!’ I demanded, trying to ignore the twinge of discomfort I felt whenever my friends discussed drugs. It was the one thing I would never try—along with anal because there’s another perfectly good hole millimetres away—and it always made me feel distant from my drug-taking friends. Thank God Lara was as uncool as me and didn’t take MDMA either.

‘So, it was a tiny star that I got on the sole of my foot,’ she said. ‘But that bit of your skin is really rough, so it doesn’t really work for tattoos and they disappear over time. If you squint you can kind of see the outline though.’ She thrust her bare left foot in our faces.

‘Oh yeah,’ said Lara. ‘Holy shit, that’s crazy.’

Emma nodded wistfully. ‘Isn’t it? Those days were fun. Not that I don’t love being with Sergio, obviously. He’s great and I love him.’

Lara and I nodded along with her, still transfixed by her surprise tattoo. ‘Anyway,’ continued Emma. ‘Lara, you’re not getting out of sharing your dating stories.’

‘OK, but I’m going to need more wine to relive these,’ she said.

Emma filled up our glasses and I closed the laptop screen. ‘Spill,’ I said.

‘OK, so it started with SafariLover,’ she said. ‘And, no, I don’t mean he liked animals. He was actually called Jake, but he worked for Apple doing some techie stuff. We went for drinks in Farringdon on our first date but he spent the whole time discussing fucking bitcoins. On a plus note, he was as attractive as his pictures and at least six foot, but it was just the bitcoins …’ We nodded sympathetically and she continued. ‘Obviously I still snogged him, but then I didn’t reply to any of his texts after that. Then I moved on to date two. He was Juanderful.’

‘Wonderful?’ asked Emma.

‘Nope. JUAN-derful. That was his OKC username. He was Spanish, thirty-five and very, very attractive. Unfortunately he lacked brain cells and was basically just there to improve his English. So that didn’t work. We had an amazing goodbye kiss though—I was seriously tempted to go back to his but couldn’t handle doing dirty talk in another language.’

‘I can’t even do it in English,’ I said.

‘You just need the practice,’ said Emma reassuringly. ‘So, what about date three?’

‘Averagecupid56.’ She grinned.

‘There are fifty-five other average cupids?’ I asked with a raised eyebrow.

‘Can’t imagine any of them being like Mr 56 though. He turned up on a bicycle for starters.’

‘Wow, guess he wasn’t planning on getting lucky,’ I said.

‘That didn’t stop my tattoo guy.’ Emma grinned.

‘It wasn’t so much the bike that bothered me, it was more the fact that he was sitting in the corner of the pub waiting for me with a copy of the Guardian.’ We groaned. ‘Oh no, it gets worse. He took me to a restaurant where he ordered quinoa and then spent the entire time discussing his gap yah and dream to volunteer for that Médecins Sans Frontières thing. He was definitely the fittest of the three and clearly intelligent but he was the biggest stereotype ever. It was kind of off-putting, but—’

‘But you still snogged him?’ I interrupted.

She gave me a withering look. ‘What do you take me for? I shagged him.’

ELK123 22, London

My self-summary:

I live in East London and work in the media but am not the typical stereotype—I promise. I don’t wear plastic glasses, I hardly ever wear vintage, and I’d much rather be travelling around the world with a backpack. OK, maybe I am the stereotype …

What I’m doing with my life:

Interning. Generally involves fetching lattes, crying in the loo and wondering why I bothered going to uni.

I’m really good at:

Making my friends laugh. Generally at me, not with me.

The first things people usually notice about me:

My 36Ds.

Favourite books, movies, shows, music and food:

The question has put these in the wrong order—food comes above all these things. Will eat pretty much anything.

Love romcoms, old Disney films and trashy American TV.

Listen to everything from old-school rap to Taylor Swift.

My favourite books have to have a female protagonist because not enough of them do. And I just prefer reading about women, you know?

Studied English Lit at uni so am a bit of a bookworm.

The six things I could never do without:

My friends

Black clothing (am not a goth. Black is just my colour)

Tortellini (only thing I can cook)

Cheese (ditto)

The internet

Support bras

I spend a lot of time thinking about:

Being a woman and a feminist in the twenty-first century. Very challenging when people think it means you’re a hairy lesbian.

On a typical Friday night I am:

Passed out drunk in an alleyway. Normally with my friends lying on top of me.

The most private thing I’m willing to admit:

I was a virgin until twenty-one.

I’m looking for:

Whatever you can give me.

You should message me if:

You read to the bottom of this and still want to date me.

N.B. Bonus points if you can spell

‘So, what do you guys think?’ I asked. There was a four-second silence while Lara and Emma looked at each other.

‘Um, it’s … very honest,’ said Emma slowly. ‘The virgin thing is particularly, uh … Ellie, why did you put that in?’

‘Because I want to be honest. I feel like this is a chance for me to meet guys who like me for me, and respect me. I just want to make sure I end up sleeping with someone who doesn’t care that I only just lost my V-plates.’

‘Yeah, you’re going to have to take that out,’ said Lara bluntly. ‘And—support bras? You want to seduce these men, not scare the shit out of them. Also, the 36Ds? Ellie, that’s just cheap, as is the fact that you’re looking for whatever they can give you.’

‘That was flirty,’ I said hotly.

‘Is the fact that you can only cook pasta and are clearly having an existential crisis flirty too?’ she asked.

Emma nodded in agreement. ‘Babe, they don’t need to know all this stuff up front. Maybe just tone it down a bit?’ She looked at my crestfallen face. ‘I mean, I love that it’s so you, but I’m not really sure it works. Like, the passed out drunk in an alleyway part sounds a bit … wrong.’

Lara snorted with laughter and I turned to her angrily. ‘It isn’t wrong. It’s just funny. I said I’m good at making my friends laugh and I was trying to prove my point.’ They were now both laughing hysterically into their glasses of rosé. ‘Ugh, whatever. If you think you can do better, why don’t you take over?’

‘I thought you’d never ask,’ said Lara, grabbing the laptop. ‘Come on, Emma, let’s fix this.’

ELK123 22, London

My self-summary:

I live in East London and work in the media. Studied English at uni and am now wondering why.

What I’m doing with my life:

Interning for a high-profile online magazine.

I’m really good at:

Making my friends laugh.

The first things people usually notice about me:

My smile.

Favourite books, movies, shows, music and food:

Love romcoms, old Disney films and trashy American TV.

Listen to everything from old-school rap to drum and bass.

Favourite authors range from Jane Austen to Jack Kerouac.

The six things I could never do without:

My friends

Clothes

Alcohol

Coffee

Novels

Saturday nights

I spend a lot of time thinking about:

How fun last weekend was.

On a typical Friday night I am:

Out drinking with my friends.

The most private thing I’m willing to admit:

I’ve never been on a dating site before.

I’m looking for:

Whatever happens.

You should message me if:

You want to.

‘What is this?’ I cried out. ‘Message me if you want to? I sound like a fucking PROSTITUTE. And you both know I hate Jack Kerouac. This is … This is all lies,’ I spluttered.

‘Nooo, it’s not lies,’ said Emma. ‘It’s more of an airbrushed version of the truth. We kept in some of it anyway, like … the bit about music?’

‘Drum and bass? Do I look like the kind of person who wants to take E and jump up and down to music without words?’ I shrieked.

‘Babe, you don’t really jump to drum and bass,’ said Emma, before catching sight of my face. ‘OK, OK, if you hate it, we can change it. But, honestly, I think this would work a bit better than your one. I mean, would you rather your future date sees you as self-deprecating and awkward—which we love about you—or sexy and fun?’

‘Exactly,’ said Lara. ‘You’d exaggerate your CV, so you may as well do the same for this. Just think of it as a dating CV. It’s like, um, an online portfolio.’

I frowned at them both and then broke into a grin. ‘Wait, so do you guys really think I have a good smile?’

‘We wrote that?’ asked Lara. ‘Oh yeah. We figured it was better than drawing attention to the mass of hair on your head or your massive tits. Besides, smiles sound sexy.’

‘But this isn’t me being myself. It’s me trying to be the kind of girl guys like.’

‘Exactly,’ said Emma. ‘Guys will like it.’

‘Uh, what happened to you being a feminist?’ I asked. ‘One boyfriend and you’re all “pretend you like Kerouac and drum and bass” to get a guy.’

‘It’s just playing them at their own game,’ replied Emma, waving her hand at me. ‘They do it too—how many of these guys really like half the stuff they say they do? The ones who put “looking for friendship”? Utter bollocks. All they want is a casual fuck, but they can’t say that or no one will click on them. It’s just the game.’

‘Well … that’s shit,’ I said. ‘I thought The Game was an anti-women self-help book for men to pull girls by ebbing away at their self-esteem.’

‘Yeah, it’s that too,’ said Emma. ‘But I was talking about the concept not the book, babe.’

‘Either way, it sounds like crap,’ I said. ‘It’s so old-fashioned. I’m so over the game. In fact, I officially opt out of the game.’

Lara raised an eyebrow at me. ‘So, you’re going to use your original profile, then?’

I threw a cushion at her. ‘Oh, fuck off, you both know my attempt was shit and I’m using your version. But you don’t have to look so smug about it.’

They grinned at each other. ‘Knew it,’ said Emma. ‘As much as we hate the game, it’s just gotta be played.’

‘OK, this is it,’ said Lara. ‘I’m clicking save, and … it’s done! Now we’ve just got to hope that this mass of lies gets Ellie laid.’