Six messages later and Sam gives me his phone number, which I appreciate. I have no desire to hand out my phone number to random men who might drunk dial me at 3 a.m. thinking it’s flattering. Interrupting my sleep is grounds for histrionic rage, vengeance and inevitable blocking.
So Tinder seems hopeful. Maybe I was too quick to judge. I’ve gone from zero possibilities to one potential, in the space of an afternoon. However, if I’ve been successful on one app, maybe I’ll be even more so on another. My curiosity gets the better of me and I sign up for Flirt First, somewhat concerned that Eddie has now dismissed his ethical dilemma and decided to chat up his client base.
Instead of first names, you’re asked to choose a username, thus keeping the mystery alive until you decide you want to take things any further. Photos can only be shared as you progress through the chat, removing the instant dismissive ‘not a chance in hell’ that can happen on other sites. Along with your age and location you provide a quote from one of your favourite songs or movies. Sadly, despite my recommendations, Eddie Bailey has chosen not to let users specify an age range. Apparently, love doesn’t care about age. Thank God you have to be over eighteen to use the app or I’d be side-eyeing Eddie every time we were in the same room.
Choosing a username isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Nothing too boring likeWomanInLondonbut nothing too cringeworthy either likelookingforloveand absolutely nothing desperate likeohgodwhyamistillalone?orlastchancesaloon.
Something funny. Something which reflects my personality.
Legend, 45, London. ‘There’s no crying in baseball.’
Instant brownie points if they know that’s a quote from the filmA League of Their Own.
This produces more results straight away, and most are quite telling.
Terrahawks, 38, Stratford. ‘My precious.’
Eighties kids’ television sci-fi show.The Lord of the Ringsreference. Complete geek.
LivinginLondon, 73, Battersea. ‘I see dead people.’
At your age, I’m sure you do.
JB, 29, Croydon. ‘I feel the need– the need for speed.’
I know this is fromTop Gun, but it could also imply that he’s a fan of amphetamines.
HH, 31, Lambeth. ‘You had me at hello.’
Maybe this line fromJerry Maguiremakes some women swoon. It does nothing for me. ‘The human head weighs eight pounds’ is far better.
At last I find one that piques my interest.
Dr Loomis, 49, London. ‘It’s showtime.’
Halloween name andBeetlejuicequote. He obviously likes horror movies. Is this a red flag? I don’t mind horror films and I’m relatively normal, so maybe not. I decide to message him anyway. If he’s a weirdo, I’m logging off.
I click on send message and receive a notice that reminds me I have to flirt first.
Get ready with your smoothest lines.
While I’m amazing at some things, flirting probably isn’t one of them. What the hell do I say? I have no idea how to be cool or suave. I once bought a guy a drink in Ibiza and made a joke about the sunburn on his face. Turns out he had a port-wine stain birthmark and wasn’t amused. Even at university, my attempts to flirt with Charlie Fox always fell flat and went unnoticed. My giggling and glancing skills were on point, though.
I wrack my brain, trying to think of some funny pick-up lines I’ve heard over the years.
Did you just come out of the oven? Because you’re red hot.
Are you a bank loan? Because you’ve got my interest.
There’s a fashion sale in my bedroom. Clothes are 100 per cent off.
I shudder. I cannot do this. I couldn’t live with myself if I used any of these lines, I’d be forced to find a cave of shame and live there. However, I know I’m supposed to say yes to the things I wouldn’t normally, so I take a deep breath and start typing.
Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes?
I hate you, Alex Steward.
I’m surprised when a reply comes through within seconds.
