Page 8 of The App Trap
453 characters without spaces. Eat that.
Now it was time for the all-important profile picture library. As well as some candid festival shots and the obligatory ‘oh my god, I can’t believe I’ve accidentally taken a picture of myself in the mirror at the gym with my biceps bulging so perfectly’ pic, I uploaded a picture of an Airfix Spitfire with the caption:
‘A rare picture from my modelling days.’
Now that I was in business, I treated myself to a leisurely browse. The first profile that caught my attention was Ben. He looked like what I can only describe as dangerous––and in the greatest of ways. You’d probably prick your finger touching him. Dressed in leather, and a tight white T-shirt with tattoos crawling up his neck from underneath it, the one photo was enough to make me unbutton my jeans. I couldn’t help but imagine being slammed up against the wall by this guy, forearm across my neck and then… well. Let’s just see what he had to say for himself.
Before I could even find the button that changed my phone keyboard to the emoji one, a big, red, juicy notification popped up from someone I’d been messaging from another app I may or may not have been using.
‘Fancy meeting you in a place like this!’read the message that had a somewhat timeless vibe about it.
I clicked on the photos immediately, (because I’m not at all shallow) and saw quite a fit-looking fella standing next to a giant statue of Gollum from the somewhat well-knownLord of the Ringsfranchise. Well, well, well… a chic geek. Good start.
Presuming that time was of the essence, I messaged ‘Rob’ straight away, saying:
‘Heavy night last night, was it? Looks like you hit the sauce a bit too hard––you look dreadful ha-ha! And isn’t that Gollum to your right?’
Rob answered the message with a deadpan and thankfully dismissive‘Yes. Would you like to go out on a date with me next week?’
And that is exactly what we scheduled in. It seemed that I was finally about to break my virtual cherry by embarking on my first ever online date.
Chapter
Five
Date night. I showered and sprayed my three hotspots with a deodorant which now seemed to be marketed towards much younger men than myself.
I ironed my outfit, (the top half anyway), brushed my teeth, and swilled some minty mouthwash. I even attempted flossing for the first time, until I got the dental brush caught between two of my back teeth, giving myself a mild panic attack.
On my way out, I couldn’t resist treating myself to a couple of slices of Finn’s expensive thick-cut deli ham and a handful of mixed olives, which rendered my meticulous dental routine pointless. Still, I was ready to rock.
Just as I was about to leave the house, Finn peered out from his room.
“Don’t forget your escape apps.”
He slammed his bedroom door shut, the sound echoing ominously in my ears.
I froze, shut the front door, headed speedily towardsFinn’s room and burst in with a complete disregard for the three-inch rule.
“My what?”
“Escape apps,” he muttered, not even bothering to look up from hisGrand Theft Automission.
“I literally have no idea what you’re banging on about. Spill. Quickly,” I said, conscious of the time, but not conscious enough of it to dismiss what seemed like a serious warning.
“For the sake of Jesus, man.”
It didn’t escape me that he pronounced the religious idol’s name with a subtle Spanish twist. That made the left side of my lip twist up into a half-smile.
He finally paused the game and span his phone around in his palm. Sweet move. For a nerdy-looking speccy man, he can do a hell of a lot of annoyingly cool things.
“Now there’s a chance… a big chance that things are gonna go Southern Rail on you. If and when that time comes, you’re going to need this…”
He pushed his phone in front of my face so it was just about in focus.
“Alcatraz.”
As the screen before me morphed into focus, I noticed it seemed to be dominated by a very busy Facebook chat.
