Radhika Sanghani - Not That Easy

My first port of call was Facebook. I went straight to my photos from sixth form. I sighed in relief as I flicked through them and realised I was right; my boobs were on show in every single one. I was caked in make-up, my curves were forced into minuscule dresses, and I looked sexy enough to take on Ange_xx.

I selected one of the most blatant pictures and, ignoring the twinge of self-disapproval I was feeling, quickly made it my new profile picture. I knew Emma had said online dating was a feminist tool, so I probably shouldn’t have gone for such a tacky man-catching ploy, but if everyone else was doing it … Besides, I bet it wasn’t just the girls. JT_ldn was probably four inches shorter and five years older than he promised.

Fuck, what if he had lied?!

My phone beeped. There was a message from JT.

I’d love to. Think we should do it soon before you get a whole line of dates with your new profile picture. Very hot by the way.

I screeched out loud. OK, it was kind of embarrassing he had noticed my photo ploy—but he also thought I was hot and wanted to go for drinks, and I had successfully asked out a guy!!! I was a woman of the future and a feminist in action. No one had to know I’d used a photo of my tits to do it.

I was standing at the entrance of Angel tube station trying to swallow the stress-induced gags my stomach kept heaving up. It was 8.03 p.m. and I was about to meet JT in person. I glanced around weakly but couldn’t see anyone who looked six foot three with crinkly green eyes and dark blond hair. My watch said 8.06 p.m. Oh God. Was he about to stand me up?

My phone vibrated. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It was from him.

Hey, just inside next to the ticket machine. Wearing a red scarf. Holding a book. See you soon!

I sighed in relief that he hadn’t stood me up—and then realised with a jolt that this was actually happening. I was about to have an actual internet date. It was too late to run away. Oh God.

Feeling sicker than ever, I wrapped my jacket tightly around me and slowly stepped into the station. The ticket machine was on the left. As promised, there was a tall man standing next to it. I quickly ducked behind a Big Issue seller and peeped out over his shoulder to spy on JT. I couldn’t see his face but he was wearing a black woollen coat with a maroon scarf. I breathed out in relief; he looked hot from behind.

I stood up straight and boldly walked over to him. My blood was pounding, but I forced myself to keep going. When I was inches away, I cleared my throat. He turned around to face me and the smile on my face plummeted.

JT WAS ANCIENT.

He had wrinkles, greying hair, and, oh my fucking God, was he missing a tooth?! I felt a stream of bile rise up into my mouth and I gagged audibly.

He opened his mouth to speak but before he could say a word, I whirled around and ran out of the station. When I was outside I started breathing slowly. It was OK. These things happened but at least I was in public and the elderly JT couldn’t attack me. I was safe.

‘Ellie,’ called a voice behind me. Oh my fucking God. It was him—he’d found me and now he was about to attack me. I quickened my pace and ran past benches full of staring passers-by. I turned my head to check if he was following me and fell flat on my face onto the pavement.

‘Are you all right?’

I looked up in pain and saw an attractive blond man smiling above me. His dark green eyes crinkled as he smiled and there were no wrinkles to be seen. It was JT_ldn. The real one.

‘I … don’t understand,’ I said. ‘You look like your picture.’

‘Erm, should I not?’ he asked with a raised eyebrow. My eyes flew straight to his neck. He was wearing a bright red scarf, three shades lighter than the maroon scarf I’d just seen. With a wave of relief, I realised that this was the JT I’d meant to meet and the other man was just an awful, awful coincidence in a maroon scarf.

I had officially fucked up.

‘No, no, it’s a good thing, trust me,’ I said, as I pulled myself off the kerb.

‘Right, and do you always run away from your dates? This is the first time I’ve had to chase after someone on a date, you know.’ He grinned.

I felt my cheeks flush as I realised what I’d just done. I had just run away from the hottest date I’d ever had. And then tripped on a jagged pavestone.

‘So, um, about that,’ I said sheepishly. ‘The red scarf thing kind of threw up a bit of confusion.’

‘Go on …’

I sighed. ‘Well, there’s a forty-year-old, fat, unattractive man wearing a red scarf down by the ticket machine. I thought he was you, or you were him, or I don’t know.’

He threw back his head and howled with laughter. I noticed in relief that he had all his teeth. ‘That’s hilarious. You thought I was some paedo?’

‘Essentially … yeah.’ I winced. ‘Sorry. I’m so embarrassed.’

‘Don’t be, this is a great story to tell the grandkids.’ Grandkids?! We hadn’t even held hands yet. ‘I’m kidding,’ he added.

‘Yeah, obviously.’ I laughed nervously. ‘Sorry, I’m still all over the place from the whole paedo thing. And then the running away bit. Can we start over?’

He smiled and held out his right hand. ‘Sure, I’m JT. Good to meet you.’

‘I’m Ellie. Nice to meet you too,’ I said, shaking his hand.

‘Great, so now we’ve got the formalities out of the way, how about we go and grab some food?’ I nodded happily, ignoring the weighted lump of undigested pasta in my stomach reminding me I had just eaten a whole pack of tortellini. ‘So there’s a fun Chinese buffet place up the corner. You keen?’

‘Buffet?’

‘Yeah, but you do have to be pretty hungry to get your money’s worth, so if you’re not that hungry, we can always just get tacos or something elsewhere,’ he suggested.

Tacos sounded perfect—but what if he thought I was one of those anorexic girls who couldn’t handle buffets? My appetite was the one positive attribute guys loved about me. All my male friends were terrified of dating skinny dieting girls who only ordered salads and counted calories—they’d all told me this was my niche. Considering I didn’t have that many, I knew I had to work it.

I mentally said goodbye to the light, refreshing tacos and prepared myself for a second carby dinner. ‘Buffet sounds great.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asked. There it was, my get-out card. I just had to say no and we could get tacos.

‘Yeah, definitely. I’m starving.’

‘Cool, it’s just down here,’ he said, gesturing as we started walking down the high street. ‘So, how has your day been?’

‘Um, pretty uneventful until the past ten minutes,’ I said.

‘Same.’ He laughed. ‘I can’t say I imagined I’d be running down the street behind my first OKCupid date.’

‘This is your first time too?’ I asked.

‘Yeah, I thought I’d give it a try and do something new.’ He shrugged. ‘Everyone kept raving about it at work, so I figured I’d give it a shot. What about you? What made you take the virtual leap?’

‘Um …’ I racked my brains for an appropriate response that didn’t have the phrase ‘slut’ or ‘one-night stand’ in it. ‘Pretty much the same as you, really. Just something different.’

‘Yeah.’ He nodded. ‘I guess I’m just looking for whatever happens, really. Whether that’s a relationship or just … casual fun.’ He looked straight into my eyes and I felt a tingle run up my spine. Thank God I’d shaved my legs and trimmed my bush—one-night stand, here I come.