Born-and-bred Londoner, lawyer-in-training, lover of fine food, books, films, the Marvel Cinematic Universe and adventure. I make the best curry on this side of the Indian Ocean. Enjoy thrills and keeping fit. Looking for someone who knows their Ulysses from their Iliad and can match my passion and enthusiasm for all life has to offer 
As far as profiles went, it wasn’t that bad. It made me sound interesting. Intelligent. Adventurous. Fulfilled.
‘Can make the best curry on this side of the Indian Ocean?’ I raised an eyebrow.
‘Creative licence,’ Arjun replied casually. ‘You’re welcome.’
Turning back to my phone, I browsed through the pictures they had chosen and I was surprised to see that I didn’t look completely out of my depth. There was a customary #goldenhour selfie, a picture from a wedding and a couple from Dubai. Looking at the profile felt like an out-of-body experience, like I was seeing myself for the first time. This profile didn’t look like it belonged to a confused introvert who lacked confidence and always felt inferior.
‘Thanks,’ I whispered, my eyes beginning to sting. Was this how people saw me? For so long I had felt unworthy, second fiddle to my brother, the twins and my work colleagues. I walked about in a fog, not knowing who I was or where I was going. But now, I felt like I had some clarity. I may not have known exactly who I was, but I knew where I was going.
Arjun began explaining how the app worked and I tuned in and out of his tutorial. All I was going to do was go on ONE date and that was it, I didn’t need to become an expert on swiping or reading between the lines.
‘Whatever you do, DON’T give your number to any random person and don’t meet anyone without telling us and letting us investigate him first, OK?’ he said sternly. ‘I really don’t want to read about you in the papers the next day.’
‘Stop freaking me out! I didn’t want to do this in the first place,’ I wailed.
‘It’s good you’re freaked out. And also, don’t send money to anyone or click any links. Or agree to go on a private jet.’
‘All right!’
Someone clearly took their Netflix documentaries too seriously, but deep down, I knew he was right. If Arjun was offering to do due diligence for free, then I wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to preserve my life for a bit longer.
‘Hey, Luce, how’s it going with you and that guy you were seeing?’ I asked her later that afternoon, as I carried on doing fake work. I’d had the same Excel spreadsheet open for the past two hours and hadn’t made a single change on it.
‘Same thing,’ she all but growled at me. ‘He won’t commit and I’m done. I’m so done.’
‘He doesn’t deserve you, hun,’ I said sympathetically. He really didn’t. She was a catch in every sense of the word. She was kind, caring, fun, smart, beautiful. She could have anyone she wanted. She didn’t need a wasteman who wouldn’t commit to her. I said all this out loud and she suddenly stood up, her eyes ablaze.
‘You’re right!’ she said. ‘He doesn’t deserve me. Look at me! Do I look like someone who waits around for a man to make up his mind if he wants to be with me?’
I stared at her as her voice grew louder, causing colleagues in different departments to look over at us.
‘WELL? DO I?’
‘Uh no, you don’t. Sorry, I thought it was a rhetorical question.’ I looked at her nervously and at all the curious faces watching us. Rachel in accounts in particular. She’d had it in for us ever since that time she asked if she could join us for lunch and we had slipped off without telling her. ‘Err, Luce, do you want to keep it down a bit? People are looking.’
Lucy sat down in a huff, her face as pink as a marshmallow. ‘You know what? I’m making a profile too. That’s what I’m going to do. I’m not wasting a second further on some mummy’s boy who’s too scared to bring me home.’
Later that night, when I was in the privacy of my room, I checked RateYourDate and tried to figure out how to use it properly, wishing I had paid more attention to Arjun’s lesson. Mind you, it wasn’t exactly neurosurgery, quite the opposite, in fact. Some of the profiles made me wonder if the person writing them had a single brain cell. Said the woman whose friends curated and created her entire profile for her. I know, I’m a hypocrite.
Soon, I was having quite a lot of fun swiping this way and that. What made this app different was the fact that dates could rate each other after meeting up and the higher the star rating, the higher the profiles ranked.
Judging people on their dodgy profile pictures (heavily filtered ones being the worst) and their badly written bios was just what I needed after a long day at work. With some of the guys, it was obvious that they were there looking for a sneaky link, but it was more difficult to tell with others. The app wasn’t a Muslim-centric one but there were still plenty of Muslim men on it. It didn’t matter to me either way. I was after one platonic meeting and that was all. Number nineteen would be done and dusted.
It didn’t take long to get bored of constantly swiping, so I decided to call it a night. I would check out my own notifications the following morning to see if anyone was interested in me, but it was late and I didn’t want to get sucked into a conversation with anyone.
Just as I was about to log out and put my phone away, a profile caught my eye. The guy looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him immediately. There was only one picture, so I moved down to the bio and gasped as realisation struck me in the centre of my chest like a lightning bolt:
NoahPT29
30
London
6’3
Hey everyone, Noah here. I’m a half-Lebanese, half-English personal trainer looking for someone who’s smart, fun, easy-going and enjoys going out, working out and experiencing new things. If that’s you . . . well, who knows where swiping right could lead us?
WHAT. THE. HELL?
My fingers trembling with excitement, I read his bio over and over again until I knew it off by heart. I analysed every millimetre of his picture, lapping it all up like a thirsty horse in a desert oasis. The beautiful, wavy, light brown hair, the twinkling green-grey eyes, skin the colour of molten gold, perfect straight white teeth, the bump in his nose. He was looking straight into the camera and it felt like he was looking straight at me.
Hurriedly, as though I was afraid that the profile would disappear, I took a screenshot and sent it over to Lucy, who called me immediately.
‘OH, MY BLOODY GAWD, MAYA!’ she shrieked so loudly that I had to move the phone away from my ear.
