Page 8 of Is She Really Going Out with Him?
“Hi,” I say, interrupting their conversation about the TV showTraitors.
“Hi,” Kelly says, turning to look at me. “Did you want to talk about ad layouts for the gallery piece?”
“Um, no, this isn’t about work—well, it is, kind of.” I clear my throat, embarrassed to ask. “I need to join a dating app and don’t know where to start. If I took you both for a drink after work, could you help me?”
Their eyes light up and they clap their hands. “Oh yes!” cries Steph. “I knew this day would come. My calling!”
“Makeover!” Kelly squeals.
“No, no, I don’t need a makeover, just a dating profile. It’s for work.”
Steph and Kelly are both what I’d call “next-generation beautiful.” They’re hot, but a lot of work goes into it.A lot.There’s contouring makeup, eyelash extensions, and fake nails, which must preclude them from doing any washing up. Steph’s balayaged hair is neatly pressed into waves, while Kelly has blond extensions down to her waist. I can’t imagine anyone with children having this level of commitment to looking good.
“You came to the right place,” says Kelly, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “Of course we’ll help you.”
—
They’re both freeafter work, and Dan’s mum is taking the kids out for her birthday this evening, so I don’t need to rush home. Kelly suggests the Botanist, a trendy cocktail bar on Milsom Street.
“Okay, first things first, profile pic,” says Steph, scrolling through photos on my phone. “Found one.” Steph holds up my screen to show Kelly a picture of me in a bikini.
“That’s from my honeymoon! That’s not what I look like now.”
“Have you got any more bikini shots? You might as well show a full-body shot, you’ve the figure,” Steph says.
Kelly nods. “You need to identify your selling points. You’re hot, that’s all anyone cares about.”
“Thanks, but no, I haven’t worn a bikini since I had children, and I don’t think I’m comfortable putting a half-naked photo of myself online.”
“This one?” Kelly asks, showing me a photo of myself and Dan at a concert. “You look young and up for it here. We could crop him out.”
“That’s because Iwasyoung. I was twenty-eight. No, please don’t look at any photos more than two years old,” I tell her.
“You literally have no recent photos of yourself. Look, your selfies file is all just pictures of your kids,” Kelly says, showing me a picture of Ethan grinning with a mouth full of Cheerios.
“I can take one now,” Steph offers, tilting her head in sympathy. “The lighting is good in here. Do you have any makeup you could put on?”
“I am wearing makeup,” I tell her, and she leans forward to inspect my face, as though she doesn’t believe me.
“Where?”
“Let’s come back to the photo,” Kelly suggests, patting my hand. “We’ll do that at the end.”
“Fine,” says Steph, taking a sip of her white wine spritzer. “Right, so are you looking for love, friends, coffee dates, or hookups?”
“None of the above,” I say.
“You have to put something,” Steph says. “If it’s for a dating column you should say you’re looking for love. I don’t think the hookup scene here isBath Livingmaterial.”
“Fine, put that. Though is it disingenuous if that’s a lie?”
“Don’t worry, everyone lies online,” says Kelly. As she scrolls to the next screen, I lean over Steph’s shoulder to see what she’s doing. “Right, interests. What are you into? Music, nature, gaming, self-care?”
“Are those the only options?” I ask.
“No,” Steph says. “It can be anything.”
“What am I into? Being a mum, my work. I have a cat, though I wouldn’t say I’m a ‘cat person.’ I don’t treat her like a fur baby or have a T-shirt with her face on it or anything.” I laugh, then say seriously, “Don’t put that.”
