Dan Taylor Is Giving Up on Women

by Neal Doran

  Oh, OK. I see what they’ve done now.

  I love escaping to the movies, and I’ll see anything a bit romantic with subtitles, but sometimes a 3D blockbuster with a big box of popcorn to share can’t be beat.

  Hmm, fair enough. But I wasn’t sure about this sharing my popcorn commitment. With the cost of those big bags that was like signing a joint mortgage.

  After nearly 30 years of London, I haven’t got tired of it yet. I love the bustle of the West End, and the hidden gems in the leafy ‘burbs…

  Ah, yes, Colliers Wood High Street with its elegant chip shop and delightful corner shop featuring one of the finest selections of tramp-strength lagers in all of south London.

  I enjoy good food and wine, but, aside from a couple of signature dishes, I’m not much of a cook. Maybe you could teach me a few new recipes — or should we just go out somewhere new for dinner?

  I do admire the culinary arts, I thought as I put some dropped pepperoni back on top of my last piece of leftover Domino’s pizza, and wiped my hands on the front of my shirt.

  I go to the gym regularly, but not obsessively. I enjoy it when I get there…

  If by regularly they meant three times every January then nothing for eleven months, I guessed that was largely accurate as well.

  I’m looking for someone fun, and open to the idea of something long-term. And maybe just a little bit prettier than they realise.

  As I reached the end of the profile I sat back on the sofa and rubbed my hand over my jaw reflectively. ‘Well, doesn’t he sound like quite the smoothie?’ was my first thought. Followed quite quickly by a snide ‘and a bit of a wanker’.

  I realised I was jealous and intimidated by my own personals ad.

  I sat there for a while juggling with the contradictory thoughts I was having. This didn’t sound like me to me, but it was all just about true. Or at least true in the polish-it-up-a–bit-to-make-it-look-presentable-on-your-CV sense of the truth. Was I resentful of the thought there were guys with the self-confidence to put themselves forward like this, and that women bought it? The profile had Hannah’s fingerprints all over it, with the little mental images of fun things to do together that would appeal to women.

  Is that how she sees me? I wondered.

  I was staring at the computer screen, lost in thought, when a notification flashed up: Hi FunnyGal483, you have a new message from SuperDan82.

  I jumped back away from my computer in shock before peering back at the screen from the other side of the sofa.

  ‘Hi there Ms 483! Or may I just call you Funny? I couldn’t help but notice you were looking at my profile, so thought I’d say hello.’

  Well, I thought, this could get awkward…

  Chapter Eleven

  I don’t know exactly why I didn’t just shut down my computer and go and hide under my duvet when that message came in, but I didn’t.

  What can I tell you? I was panicking.

  Maybe I felt that somehow I’d give myself away or look suspicious by just disappearing. Maybe I wasn’t thinking straight because I was embarrassed being caught looking myself up online. And maybe, just a little bit, I was curious about what my alter ego was saying to these women on the Internet.

  I knew it was Hannah playing the role of me again this evening. Rob had told me the night before that he had some staff leaving drinks to go to. He’d made a big deal of how he couldn’t stand the guy that was leaving and would have to watch himself to be sure that after a couple of cocktails he didn’t explain that fact to him in intricate detail. My heart rate took a little sprint of excitement as I got ready to say hello.

  I’d never said I wouldn’t look up what they were doing for me online although I think the assumption was I wasn’t going to snoop. I’ll just string her along for a little while, I decided, then jump out from behind the computer and shout, ‘Surprise!’

  It’ll only be a little joke.

  So how would a nice lady like me deal with a forward young man like her? I hesitantly started my reply.

  FunnyGal483: I think it would be proper to stick to last names for now, Mr 82, we barely know each other. Unless you’re related to the Hampshire 82s. They’ve been friends of our family for generations.

  SuperDan82: I’ll bow to your impeccable manners. So what brings you to the Internet on a Friday night? Shouldn’t you be hitting the town?

  FunnyGal483: Hit the town last night, and I imagine the poor town hasn’t recovered yet, so I thought I’d give it a night off. Cosied up with a glass of wine and the telly, but thought I’d pop in here to see what all the fuss is about.

  SuperDan82: They’re making a fuss about me? How flattering. ;-D

  There’s one of those little faces again, I thought. I decided later I would call Hannah on it, and mercilessly tease her about them. I smiled at the cockiness of SuperDan — I didn’t think I’d have the guts to talk to strangers like that. I was kind of surprised Hannah did too.

  The power of online identities, I supposed.

  FunnyGal483: I meant the fuss about the weird world of online dating. News of your reputation hasn’t reached me yet you’ll be relieved to know. So why are you home on Friday night then? No mates?

  SuperDan82: An unfortunate mix-up. I’ve now fired my social secretary.

  FunnyGal483: Right. Nice hat, by the way.

  SuperDan82: In the picture? Thanks. Although some of my terribly cynical mean friends think it makes me look like I’m covering up a bald spot…

  FunnyGal483: Never even crossed my mind. Are you…?

  SuperDan82: Certainly not!

  FunnyGal483: Damn. I think they can be sexy. They’re a sign of virility, I believe.

  SuperDan82: I could always get one shaved in. By the way, not wanting to be superficial, but I see your profile hasn’t got a picture yet. I’ve shown you mine ;-)

  I’d just said I think bald spots are sexy, and Hannah winked at me while asking to see my photos. Things were getting weird. It probably would have been a good time to throw back the hood, upload a picture of me looking particularly goofy and reveal myself as the true heir to the SuperDan title.

  But I was beginning to enjoy this little subterfuge and couldn’t quit yet.

  FunnyGal483: Hang on! I’ve only just joined up. I’m waiting for Annie Leibowitz to come round for tea and a Jaffa Cake to do my portrait. Stella McCartney is struggling under the pressure to find the perfect outfit.

  SuperDan82: I’m sure you’d look gorgeous in an old sack — get something up here! Or do you have something to hide?

  What was that supposed to mean? I wondered edgily. She wasn’t suspicious, was she? I reassured myself it was just banter. She probably said that to all the girls.

  FunnyGal483: ‘Don’t give away the goods too soon’ as my mother always says.

  SuperDan82: Wise woman. What are you watching by the way?

  FunnyGal483: There’s this new programme I’ve discovered called Friends. They’ve been burying it away in the schedules but I think it could do very well if they just gave it a chance.

  SuperDan82: I think I’ve heard of it… It’s one of those heavy Eastern European dramas about Soviet oppression right? I’ll find the channel. Regular or +1?

  FunnyGal483: Regular.

  There was a pause, and I could see Hannah, schlepping across the room for the TV remote, going back to her favourite overstuffed chair, and flicking through the channels one by one, habitually checking there wasn’t something else on the box she was missing out on until she reached the sitcom.

  SuperDan82: Would you believe I’ve seen this one?

  FunnyGal483: No! What were the chances?

  SuperDan82: So let’s pretend we’re 19 again. Which one are you? Be honest now, I’m not judging. As long as it’s not Ross, that’d freak me out a bit.

  FunnyGal483: Saying the janitor would make me sound very ladylike wouldn’t it? So I’ll go for Monica. A very untidy Monica.

  SuperDan82: Monica, eh? Would it sound too corny if
I said Chandler?

  FunnyGal483: Could that BE any more of a line? But I’ll allow it…

  SuperDan82: Phew, because my back-up was Phoebe’s weird brother who has her babies.

  FunnyGal483: So how long have you been doing online dating Mr Chandler Bing?

  SuperDan82: Just a few weeks now. New Year’s Resolution.

  FunnyGal483: Any joy?

  SuperDan82: Before tonight you mean? Spoken to a couple of people, met a couple of people, but nothing that’s worked out yet. There’s some interesting characters on here… You don’t drink urine do you?

  FunnyGal483: My own, or someone else’s?

  SuperDan82: Would it make a difference to your answer?

  FunnyGal483: No, you’re safe there. Never passes my lips. I’m a wee-totaller.

  SuperDan82: Well that puts you ahead of the competition by a long stretch.

  Poised over my keyboard I wiped my palms, which were getting a bit tingly and sweaty, and decided to up the ante a bit.

  FunnyGal483: So, have you been single for long?

  SuperDan82: Getting personal very quickly!

  FunnyGal483: It’s my journalistic training…

  SuperDan82: A couple of years now. Had a long-term partner before that, but things didn’t work out.

  FunnyGal483: Sounds tough.

  SuperDan82: Yeah, it was for a while. But looking back now it makes sense. All the clichés apply. People change, you grow apart.

  FunnyGal483: It’s not you, it’s me…

  SuperDan82: If you love someone you set them free… When we first got together we wanted mainly the same things. And when we didn’t we had these fiery rows and we could sort it out that way. But we were very young, and that energy doesn’t last. I think I can win the cliché Top Trumps by saying by the end I loved him, but I wasn’t IN love.

  FunnyGal483: Him?!

  A mile and a half down the road, I could almost hear Hannah frightening the nearby nesting pigeons as she screamed at her mistake.

  SuperDan82: Oops… Slip of the keyboard! Honest! Just it’s normally women that say that, right?

  FunnyGal483: You haven’t got some secret I should know about, do you? You’ve not joined a religious sect that’s made you renounce a gay past and go straight have you? Because that’s really only going to work if you’re a Hollywood movie star and I’ll get a massive divorce settlement when the sham is exposed.

  SuperDan82: Watch it, you can scare a guy talking about divorce before a first date. Nothing like that. So anyway moving on… How about you? Single for long or are you leading a double life with a husband and four children in the next room, patiently waiting for their supper?

  FunnyGal483: No, no. All ex-husbands buried securely under the patio. Been just me for a few years now. Seen a few people, but nothing serious for a long time. It’s fairly easy to find dates, but the right person? Proving more elusive…

  SuperDan82: So, Ms 483. This TV show has inspired me — any chance of us meeting up in an increasingly dated-looking coffee shop to be attractive and witty but not as young as we used to be together?

  FunnyGal483: You might be getting old, but I’m actually younger than I used to be. Coffee, or something a little stronger, sounds a good idea. But maybe not yet. Maybe we should wait until at least you’ve seen a picture of me? I wouldn’t want to give you too big a shock.

  SuperDan82: Oh I think I’m willing to take the risk. I could always hide in the toilets until I’m sure you’re not too scary.

  FunnyGal483: Best to be safe. If Leibowitz cancels again, I’ll just put up some shots from my swimsuit calendar shoot.

  SuperDan82: You’d have the advantage of knowing I’m interested in you for your mind first though. I’m going to have to worry that you’re only after me for my hat.

  FunnyGal483: Let’s see if another chat or two can help me think of the man behind the millinery. You know where to find me. Gotta go. Bye! xx

  Then, without even giving SuperDan82 time to say goodbye back, I signed out of the website, shutdown the computer and put it out of harm’s way. I grabbed myself another can of cider, and took a very big drink.

  What the hell had that been about? I wondered. I’d been pretending to be someone I’m not, chatting with someone else, who was pretending to be me.

  Someone who might have given away more than they intended.

  Maybe Hannah had just been talking in clichés when she got her pronouns mixed up, but it still made the air catch in my throat, and my scalp start to tingle as if swarmed by ants when I thought she might think it’s all over between her and Rob. I shivered and tried to move on — it was just a mistake while Hannah as ‘SuperDan’ was trying to lighten up a break-up story so I didn’t look like too much of a loser to potential dates.

  But it hadn’t been the story of my break-up. I’d been in love with Kate long after she’d decided to leave. And we’d never been ones for fiery rows either.

  It was a different break-up altogether.

  A different relationship.

  I took another big gulp of cider.

  I didn’t do much but stare at the muted television for a few minutes, and then the phone rang. It was Hannah. Again, I thought about hiding under my duvet, and just letting my Rockford Files answering machine message take the call. But again I didn’t.

  ‘Hiya, Dan! How are you? Not out force-feeding chocolates to diabetics this evening?’

  Hannah sounded just about herself when I picked up, although I wondered if there was a hint of forced jollity in there. We talked a bit more about last night’s date, and I took my teasing like a man, before we got down to the crux of the call.

  ‘So I was just calling to let you know the plans for Sunday, if you can take the prospect of another afternoon with a stranger,’ she said.

  ‘There’s no such thing as strangers, just women I haven’t alienated yet. What have you got for me this time, boss?’

  ‘It’s a goodie. Her name’s Sam, she’s twenty-five, graduate from Manchester in English Literature and Media Studies. Working for an IT company in a call centre, but it’s just till she works out what she’s going to do. She’s a bit sporty and active for you, but doesn’t sound like she takes it too seriously. And she’s a big one for going out to the type of pubs and clubs you think you hate, but are actually good fun so that’s good.’

  I grumbled a little about young people and their music, but Hannah shh’d me in her bossy way.

  ‘I thought she sounded like a bit of a laugh to hang out with, and Rob sounded a bit jealous he wasn’t going to be meeting up with her after their talk on the phone. She has the Harrison seal of approval for future smug dinner parties and couply holidays already. So don’t screw it up for us.’

  ‘So what does she look like? Where are we meeting? And are there any allergies or pre-existing medical conditions I need to know about?’

  ‘I’ll send you the photos, next time I’m on the computer, but pretty! Location, Spitalfields markets at oh fourteen hundred hours o’clock, p.m.’

  ‘Spitalfields markets? God, isn’t that a bit, y’know, trendy?’

  ‘Exactly. Perfect. You’re still in your twenties, man, this should be your natural habitat! Plenty of cool shops and quirky stalls to look around. You can make funny remarks about their knick-knacks. Then if things go well, you make a second date for dinner some time — make sure she knows you’ve got plans for the Sunday evening — and get yourself back to ours for supper and a debrief before Antiques Roadshow.’

  ‘You make it sound so easy.’

  ‘It will be! But we could make it more difficult for you, if you like. Ooh, I know! We could arrange for a word that you have to drop into the conversation at some point, like glockenspiel or patootie. You have to do a forfeit if you don’t do it — like calling that Rachel again, or just giving us loads of cash.’

  ‘If I see an organic handmade jester’s hat at this market, I’m going to buy it for you and make you wear it,’ I said, before dropping in as
casually and naturally as I could manage, ‘So what have you been doing this evening?’

  ‘Nothing much, just watching telly all night,’ said Hannah, sounding about equally casual. ‘Rob’s out at a big client dinner on an important account, so chicken jalfrezi for one and a big, big glass of cab sav for me.’

  ‘A client dinner?’ I sounded surprised.

  ‘I know. You’d think these people would have lives, or assume other people might do. But I guess in advertising they all think they’re cool and everybody wants to hang out with them on weekends anyway. How about you? Not out with the work gang, chasing jupe?’

  ‘Jupe?’

  ‘French for skirt. I was being cultured about your office amour.’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘taking the night off after last night. Just watching telly, like you.’

  ‘Anything good?’

  ‘Oh, y’know, just box sets,’ I said cagily. ‘You?’

  ‘Just finished a Jennifer Aniston movie. She’s our generation’s Meg Ryan, you know.’

  ‘Jennifer Aniston,’ I repeated back.

  ‘Yeah, you know. Her out of Friends. The TV show you can never escape.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘And so after Sunday, ah, any more brief and potentially shameful encounters lined up for me?’ I asked.

  ‘Sunday’s the big one. Been quiet on the online dating front since last time I checked, but maybe something will come up at the weekend.’

  ‘Not even a nibble?’ I asked.

  ‘Nope,’ she said firmly. ‘Why?’

  ‘No reason.’

  There was another pause.

  ‘We’ll think about finding where the next one is coming from after you’ve got through this one. But, hey, we might have found you a keeper,’ said Hannah.

  After that, she reminded me precisely what new outfit would be best for the young market-goer about town and wished me good luck and goodnight.

  I finished up my cider, cleared away the cans and cardboard takeaway boxes of a too-long single man, and went to bed, falling into sleep full of dreams of looking for antique diving gear in a coffee shop with Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt. And of me talking business at a leaving drinks with Angelina Jolie.