that was the case. He maintains an acceptable level of hygiene. My guess is two serious relationships, the last one hurting enough to plough his grief into climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. Maybe the girl who told him he suits grey is the one who made him need to climb the mountain to get over her? All in all, if I wasn’t using him as a social experiment, he seems a good bet. Especially at my age. Aren’t I lucky to be on a date with someone like Joshua? Better not fuck it up by being myself …
‘So, yeah, Everest is the dream, but it’s like thirty fucking grand. Whoops, I just swore. Sorry, you don’t mind swearing, do you?’
I shake my head and smile. Gretel doesn’t mind anything, that’s the point of her.
‘Phew!’ He mock-wipes his brow like he’s a comedian from the eighties making a joke about his mother-in-law. I giggle. He remembers himself, recognises how much he’s been speaking. He picks up his drink, and gestures out to me. The way he gulps it reveals he’s still nervous. And, despite myself, I feel a pang of sorrow for him. God, the things we put ourselves through, on the quest to find someone. ‘Anyway, how about you? You like the odd adventure?’
I nod because I know that you have to pretend you want adventures. God forbid if my idea of branching out is ordering a slightly different type of coffee one day and then regretting it instantly. ‘Oh yeah,’ I say, forcing myself to take another swig of beer. ‘Of course I love an adventure. Who doesn’t?’ Me me me me me me me. ‘I’m thinking of going to Africa, actually.’
The line has the desired effect. He looks impressed. ‘Wow.’
‘I just think it would be so amazing, you know?’
‘Oh yeah, of course. I’d love to go back at some point. I didn’t see enough of it, for sure, when I was there. Whereabouts in Africa?’
‘Oh, all over. I want to see it all, you know? It’s such a fascinating place.’ I realise, much like saying you’re writing a novel, or running a marathon, just saying you are planning to go to Africa instantly gives you so much social gravitas, you never have to really bother following through with it. ‘So, what is it you do?’ I ask, chasing it with more ‘why?’.
And Joshua, whether it’s nerves, or his personality, or just that men really do think the best thing that can be happening at any given moment is a woman listening to him talk, happily fills the silence until we’ve finished our drinks and decided on sharing a bottle of red. ‘Oh, I work in computers. Why? I’ve just always loved them. I got into code before people even knew it was a thing. Why? Well there’s a real beauty to it, it’s its own language. Coding is so much more creative than anyone thinks. It’s problem-solving, it’s building worlds out of nothing … Oh, yes, the company I work for is great. It’s a Start Up offering office perks. Really chilled atmosphere. We all get to finish at four thirty on a Friday. I know, great, right? Especially in the summer …’
I listen and listen and listen and listen. I nod and nod and agree and agree. I occasionally make small witticisms, to show that I’m not completely bland, just totally interested in what he’s saying. It’s so relaxing not being me. I sip my red wine and listen some more. ‘That’s great about the Friday finish,’ I say. ‘Wow, I don’t know much about coding. How interesting.’
By the time the bottle of wine’s been finished, and the bar’s more crowded, I would estimate that it’s been roughly eighty per cent Joshua talking compared to twenty per cent me talking. And, by the way he’s blearily looking at me, with hope in his slightly-drunken eyes, it looks like, ladies and gentlemen, we’ve found the golden ratio.
‘You’re pretty,’ he states. Throwing it out there with the confidence of alcohol. ‘I like your eyes.’
I accept the compliment because that shows good levels of self-esteem. ‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘I grew them myself.’
‘BAHAHAHAHA.’ He laughs so hard he almost spits out his wine. ‘That’s funny,’ he states. ‘HAHAHAHAHA. Wow, a girl has never made me laugh like that before.’
I raise my eyebrows and absorb the micro-aggression because Gretel is chill about things like that. It’s almost ten and I’m starting to wane. It’s exhausting constantly listening to somebody talk at you and arranging