My Fair Lady

So, online dating is weird.

Also exciting. And nervewracking. But mainly weird.

I'd set up my profile pretty quickly - I wasn't sure what was normally expected from this kind of thing, so I just ended up waffling a couple of paragraphs out in a friendly and chatty style. I'd barely finished when the first email popped up - already?! This was amazing! Heart thumping, I'd clicked on the icon to find the following masterpiece of the English language;

Hey. Hw's u?

Not exactly inspiring... but firmly deciding not to judge a book by its cover (or in this case, a guy by his opener), I emailed back.

By the time I had, I already had three more emails waiting for me, all similar variants of the first. Each got a chatty, open email back inviting further conversation, each taken from a quick read of their profiles. 

An hour passed in an instant, the newness and excitement of apparently being so popular making the time disappear. After an hour I had also become a tad bit more cynical... And learned that I was a language snob. After emailing First Guy a few times, I had to admit that his bad spelling was putting me off enough to never want to meet him. The same went for the next few - it wasn't just the misuse of 'ur', 'bby' or any other horrible abbreviation, but they just didn't seem to be able to hold up an interesting, articulate conversation. The best of them were just boring - the worst gave up on even the pretense of getting to know me and quickly just moved to asking for boob pictures. Those got instantly deleted, along with the apparent 90 yr old who just wanted to tell me how long his member was.

I know how much of a snob I sound like. It wasn't anything to do with education or thinking myself 'better' than anyone - I had enough of a complex about that from my grandparents.

It was just that I love language. I love reading and always have done from a very young age. From that, I've learned to love a unique turn of phrase, incorporating unusual and fascinating words into daily conversation, bringing this complex, beautiful, growing mess of the English language to life. To me, language isn't merely a way to communicate - it should be celebrated! I wanted these guys to put effort into their replies, to look at my profile and actually respond to it, to have wandering and twisting conversations leading on from those open doors - essentially, I wanted to be seduced by words. Good looks were nice enough, but if you didn't know 'your' from 'you're', then you might as well have been the grandad with the 10 inch schlong.

I spent another half hour browsing through what Edinburgh had to offer, putting a few filters in - no smokers, no kids and no one over 35. The first two were deal breakers - the last one wasn't solid, but getting too close to my dad's age made me just a tad uncomfortable. I picked out a few that intrigued me and sent off brief openers, hoping that they'd get back to me.

My phone buzzing interrupted me, and when I saw it was the president of the uni football team, my heart jumped. I knew the team was meant to be playing a cup game in Dundee today, and that the bus was meant to leave in 90 minutes - maybe they needed me? Maybe I'd actually get to play?!

No such luck.

"Hey, Jane, we may have a problem..."

Oh good. My favourite words. Didn't I love that I was hearing so much of them at the moment?

"So, the bus is meant to leave at 12. However, Dundee have just phoned Ryan up saying that the pitch is still slightly frozen. They've essentially said that they think it will be good for the match, but there is a chance that we turn up to find it called off."

I instantly understood why she had phoned me, the treasurer.

"Ah - the bus money. We can't afford an extra bus for a replay this season."

Money had been a nightmare for the club this season. I was only meant to be the treasurer, with two supporting fundraisers, but both girls had flaked out of their responsibilities. I had spent too much time before Christmas frantically trying to arrange fundraisers which barely a third of the team turned up to. I recrunched the numbers every week hoping to come up with new ideas, but as we stood we would end the season with 15 quid in the bank. It gave us absolutely no error room for unexpected costs.

It's an awful situation to be in when you're actually hoping for your team to lose cup games so that you don't have to pull an extra £300 out of a hat that doesn't exist.

I heard her sigh down the phone. "Yes, exactly. I wanted to check what the situation was if we have to replay - do we have to cover the costs? Will it be up to Dundee to pay for the replay bus or can the union cover it?"

I closed my eyes, wincing. "I'm afraid not - because they've given us warning, they won't be liable if they cancel the game when we turn up. And because it's not the later stages of the competition, we won't get any help from the sports union offices. I hate to say this so late, but we have to cancel it. We can't afford to replay this match. I know it's a pain for the players, but unless anyone can come up with an extra £300, we just can't. And in order not to be charged for today's bus, I need to cancel it now. Can you speak to Ryan and let him know?"

"Yeah, sure, I'll phone him back just now."

Rubbing my temples, I decided I needed food before hunting out the bus number to cancel. I was just wandering back through with a pile of tuna sandwiches when I noticed my phone madly buzzing again. I dumped the sandwiches on the table and grabbed it, barely looking at the name.

"Sorry, sorry, hello?"

"Jane, it's Ryan here. We can't cancel the game today."

"Wait, what? Ryan, have they explained the money situation to you-"

"Yeah, but it's only a couple of hundred quid - what matters is that the girls are up for this game today, they're in a fantastic place from the last few training sessions and we have to play. They said there was a good chance the pitch would defrost, so we're going for it."

"But we can't afford it! We don't have the money for a replay bus!"

"I'm sorry Jane, but I have to overrule you here - we're playing this game."

The sharp beep let me know that he'd hung up on me. I sat there in shock staring at the phone. Overruled me? What gave him the right? He was the coach, not one of the running committee! He got paid to turn up once a week, whilst we all did this voluntarily in our own time. He wasn't the one staring at the numbers which didn't add up for hours!

Panicking, I phoned our president back. She was in less of a state than me, but essentially had had the same conversation - Ryan was playing this game. She did manage to calm me down by emphasizing that Dundee were pretty confident that the pitch would be OK for the game - I just had to somehow convince my churning stomach of that too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I couldn't focus for the next few hours, waiting to find out whether we were screwed for the rest of the season. My pile of tuna sandwiches lay forgotten on the table - my stomach was so tense, I couldn't face the thought of food. The kick off time slowly approached and passed; my pacing grew ever more frantic. The budget spreadsheet lay open on my laptop, but no matter how I looked at it, we couldn't cut any more costs further than I already had. Eventually, my phone rang, and I grabbed it.

"Ryan, hi, is the game on?"

There was a heavy silence.

"No. The pitch was frozen."

Anger flared up as I glared sightlessly at my bedroom wall. I breathed out slowly, then hardened my resolve.

"Ryan. Due to your decision, if the club doesn't make an extra £300 in the next few weeks, the club is bankrupt. We will not be able to pay your fees at the end of the season."

I heard him move to interrupt. "No, Ryan, I'm not finished. I understand why you felt we had to pay this game, but with all due respect, you are not on the running committee. You do not get to make these decisions, as you don't know what we go through to keep this club off the ground and working."

"Jane, look, I'm sorry. Surely we can get the money together somehow?"

I barked a short laugh, then caught myself. Keep it professional, but unmoving. "Ryan, we've been trying to fundraise all season, but the players aren't supporting the fundraisers I pull together. You know this - you've been here all season. However, this changes now. You put us into this mess - I expect you to be the one to lead us out of it. I can set up another fundraiser, but you are going to be there, and you are going to be the one to get the whole team behind it."

I half expected argument, but to his credit, Ryan quietly agreed. I quickly phoned our president to update her on the situation, then leaned back on my bed, shaking slightly. I hated conflict, and that was something I'd have never done if I hadn't been so furious.

Weirdly, though, I was proud of myself. I'd stood up for the right thing, and because of it, the club might actually be OK.

As a reward, I let myself have one last glance through the new match.com emails before turning back to work. One in particular caught my eye - one of the guys I'd emailed had responded already!

Greetings, my fair lady. I have to admit, I am greatly intrigued by your profile - it is so refreshing to find someone who tries to capture who they are instead of the usual 'travel, food, love nights in and out' nonsense. After all, doesn't everyone love nights both in and out under the correct circumstances? They may as well put 'I am a functioning human being!' - but that wouldn't be nearly as fascinating, would it?

I'm afraid I have lost myself rambling, but the essence of it all is that it is lovely to hear from you. I would be very interested to continue our conversation, if that pleases you? To start with, I see that you are a steadfast fan of Doctor Who - who is your favourite Doctor of the new seasons? I have to admit that Eccleston is mine, but Tennant had his flashes of genius as well. Which are your favourite monsters?

And again I ramble! I shall end this here, and wait attentively for your response. Good day, fair lady.

I couldn't help it - I knew it was cheesy, overly flowery and aimed to flatter. Chances were he'd sent countless other ladies similar emails.

Yet, I was utterly charmed.