He wasn’t a good-looking man. He wasn’t an ugly man either. He was not smart, neither was he dumb.
She wasn’t a treat to look at. She wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. She wasn’t smart enough to take worthwhile advice from but she knew voting for UKIP was probably not ideal.
If you asked him about his hobbies he’d answer with shit like “oh you know, watching the game with the lads, maybe a cheeky Nando’s” … he didn’t say it with self-aware irony.
If you asked her she’d spout some smut about “Oooh well I love going out with my girlies” She’d say that, she was over 20 and she’d call them “her girlies”.
They were a pair of bland bastards and right now they pure, straight, hated each other.
He toyed around with the angles of his (disgustingly large) Grolsch on the table, faining interest and distraction whilst he tried to calculate the amount of money he’d thrown down the drain just to be still sat here with this same woman.
She looked around the room, offering little comments here n there pretending to find other people’s interactions cute or funny or awkward. Beneath that, she was screaming and pulling out her hair in despair at how long, just how long she had given this man, and for what? To be sat here, looking at him ignore her in a slightly upmarket – maybe – version of ‘spoons? FUCK THIS.
She spilt the wine out of her glass and raised it like a mighty weapon
“D’you fancy another one?” he murmured
“NO!” Her dramatic posture sunk: “What the fuck, how did you not even notice I was about to smash this on your head? You pay fuck all attention to me, Jason”.
“Oh, nah, no I wasn’t ignoring you I just uh…I’ve nearly got this bottle to balance properly at like 45 degrees”
“Daah fuck you!” She smashed the glass down over his head! It was harder than the sugar glass ones in movies, but lighter than ya know, like a brick. His head started bleeding and he looked dazed, then angry!
He picked up a fork and threw it like a dart so that it stuck right in the eye. “AAAAAAH” she screamed, she stabbed a steak knife through his hand, nailing it to the table then pulled down his pants, just to add humiliation to the pain, and kicked him in the balls. “YOU ASSHOLE” He shouted “I Hate you! I HATE YOU!” with his unstabbed hand he fumbled frantically around for the lighter in the pocket to his trousers that were now around his ankles. As soon as he got it he was gonna torch the whole fucking building. Which was now quickly being evacuated by startled pubgoers.
As far as I know, that was the first and last time either of ‘em used Tinder.