CHAPTER 4
-£237.41
‘Twas a cloudy Sunday. I was sitting at a restaurant, by myself. I had gotten there early, as usual. I was waiting for John, my most attractive male friend. I couldn’t see John much as he’d be travelling all the time, and he was generally the shittiest at texting back. I’d ask him out and receive a reply a few weeks later, months in this case.
John was a bit taller than me. He had small blue eyes, a dark auburn stubble, short bleached hair and his arms and hands were covered in tattoos. He wore unbelievably expensive and weird-looking designer clothes for all occasions and he’d smoke a truckload of weed every evening. He had a deep voice and a huge smile. I had just spotted that smile entering the restaurant. My eyes lit up.
‘Hey noodle,’ he exclaimed while raising his hands in the air to give me a big hug. He smelled delicious. Tom Ford, for sure.
‘Sorry I’m late. Tube was shite,’ he said.
He was wearing an oversized hooded jacket. It felt like it was made of teddy bear. It made him look huge and fluffy, but then he took it off and reminded me of how much skinnier than me he was. He sat down with me and I couldn’t stop staring at his t-shirt with a big Pikachu on it.
He owned some bizarre stuff. He squeezed my hand on top of the table like an old grandma.
‘I have missed you,’ he said, as if he wasn’t the only reason why it took so long for us to meet again.
‘I missed you! Where the hell have you been these last few weeks?’
I liked to nag.
‘Ugh,’ he muttered. ‘I just have been super busy with work and have been anywhere but home.’
John was an esteemed fashion buyer. He had been to Tokyo at least three times that year. Tokyo was my dream. I had never been to Asia, but I had promised myself I would go to Tokyo to celebrate my thirtieth birthday, while Jake would celebrate his fortieth. My thirtieth birthday was five months away, and of course there was no Japan trip planned for me.
I hated that.
The waitress came over with two glasses of prosecco.
‘Oh, that’s the stuff,’ he said, while grabbing the glass like a caveman and gulping half of it in one go. ‘I am really fucking sick of all the travelling.’
Quite triggering, but I let it slide.
‘I just turned thirty not even a month ago, and I want to have a chance to just sit down at my flat and fuck around on Tinder for a few hours, you know what I mean?’
That’s all I would do.
‘No, I get it,’ I assured him. ‘Is it a boyfriend you want, John?’
John had a bit of an odd relationship with guys. He was the type of person to attract all kinds of oddly attractive guys with all kinds of attachment issues. Daddy issues, drug issues, anger issues, anything, really. He’d go for the most immature, needy ones and would constantly get himself into trouble.
‘It’s been ages,’ he said. ‘I have been single for so long, and I see people settling down and having children literally all around me. It’s a fucking nursery every day at the office. They’re just popping them out one after the other.’
I giggled. I remembered working in an office environment. Women would indeed be popping every few months. In retail, not so much. I was surrounded by people that had barely left university or people over fifty that had been with the company since World War One, granting them a ridiculously high salary and almost infinite holiday. They were so close to the finish line and lived so cushily that they wouldn’t dare try finding a new job. And damn rightfully so.
Me? I was the severely underpaid assistant manager who’d end up doing all the things my staff were slacking at. Such as speaking to customers for one. I had this whole plan I’d go back to retail to be able to save enough money so that I’d be able to afford a studio flat with a garden and have Squall living with me again.
I couldn’t forgive Jake for getting it all. He got the dog, he got rid of me, and now he was going to get a shinier new flatmate he could have sex with. It just wasn’t fair.
‘And speaking of settling…’ he continued. ‘Mother fucking Sara Langaard.’
All this while I was either filling the till points with paper bags or staying at home eating instant noodles or, since recently, putting my dick into someone’s mouth for £50 a pop.
‘Yeah, isn’t it the slap on the face we all needed?’ I said, kind of joking. Kind of. ‘I never would have gambled on her to be the next in line.’
‘Her boyfriend is so, so damn hot though.’ He squinted. ‘He looks young.’
I laughed a little.
‘Isn’t that your type anyway?’
‘Yeah, pretty much. I recently got into trouble exactly because of that.’
His dating horror stories were always entertaining to me. I enjoyed hearing other people’s struggles. Made a difference from my usual mental ramblings.
‘I see this hot guy on Grindr, yeah. Perfect, mixed race, tall, skinny and he sends me the filthiest shit. Asks me to come fuck him, and I head there straight away.’
I was staring at him while sipping the rest of my prosecco.
‘I go inside his house, and he just jumps on me. He takes me to his bedroom, and we fuck. Raw. Hot. And then when I am finished, I looked around and thought this guy looked somewhat familiar.’
‘And you couldn’t tell until after you jizzed onto each other?’ I poked.
‘Yeah, I was too horny. And you know I can’t really see anything. He could have been anyone. I’m so fucking blind,’ he giggled. ‘Then I go fuck, this is my boss’s son.’
I spat my prosecco.
‘And I swear I think he’s seventeen,’ he added.
‘Jesus fucking Christ, John.’
My best friend was a child molester.
‘I got dressed in seconds and ran out the bloody door,’ he said while grabbing the menu. ‘I’ll be soo fucking fucked if I get found out.’
I wasn’t even fully surprised as this would be so typical of his conquests. He always attracted this kind of drama.
‘You seeing anyone?’ he asked casually. ‘I swear it’s been a while now. Or are you back with the hubby?’
Hell no.
I didn’t want to date; I wasn’t even interested. I was so angry at the world, it was hard.
‘Nah, not really. I can’t be arsed. People suck.’
I didn’t think I was quite ready to tell him about my little side hobby, but I decided I needed some outside input.
‘Right, I’m going to run something through you, and you are going to tell me if I’m being an idiot. I have been doing something…’ I teased mysteriously.
‘Drugs?’
‘No!’ I scrunched up my face. ‘Someone has been paying me to suck me off. A neighbour.’
He smiled.
‘That’s hot. How did you get around that?’
‘Just someone on Grindr,’ I said dismissively.
‘Oh. Because I heard there is an app where you can basically just do that. Seeking Arrangement or something?’
‘What the heck is that?’ I asked, blatantly curious.
‘I think it’s some sort of dating app, but it’s about finding a sugar daddy and such. Someone told me about it at work. I’m not into it because old men are disgusting.’