Not That Easy. Radhika Sanghani
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‘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