Not Junk!

I wake up early on Thursday morning to finish my latest obituary. I need to file it by noon, only there’s a bit of information I’m still missing and I’m waiting for someone to email me back. I check my inbox. Nothing. I wonder if it’s gone into my junk folder instead.

I scroll through the folder and spot a message from the dating app:

You have a message from a member. To read it you need to reactivate your account.

Ha, ha, as if. Talk about a blatant attempt to dangle the carrot at the lovelorn and tempt you to reactivate and sign up with your credit card. I don’t think so.

Still, I click on the email. The message is blocked but they’ve provided a photo of the member. Hang on, is that – Johnny!

I zoom in. It’s him. The Hot Dad . . . I mean, Fun Uncle!

Fuck. Where’s my credit card?

I’m grateful for:

1. His message, which I speed-read. It starts, ‘Hey, is that you, Nell? That’s so wild we’re both on this site,’ goes on to say that he noticed my account wasn’t active which likely meant I’d been snapped up, but if not to message him back, and ends with, ‘P.S. You looked cute in the snow!’
2. Online dating, for taking me back after we broke up.
3. Being a bloody hypocrite, though this isn’t strictly meeting someone online as Johnny and I have already met – randomly in a pub, then naked in an art class, then on the street in the snow.
4. Him saying I looked cute!
5. His quick reply to my response, asking for my number and calling me straight away.
6. A miracle.*