Not Quite 30-Love

#Prologue, #BondiDreaming

#Prologue, #BondiDreaming

The last sunrays of the day fell on the floor of my Bondi Beach apartment. Jen and I sat cross-legged next to a rug laid with cheese, grapes and bread. The brie was soft and the bread a little stale; our glasses were full. One empty and one depleted bottle of rosé sat on the floor within arm’s reach.

‘I have f*******:, why do I need i********: as well?’

‘Because you’re going on an epic adventure – i********: is how you document it. Everyone knows that.’

‘Oh that’s right. Everyone does it, so must I.’

‘You’re the b****y marketer, why do you have to be such a snob about it?’

‘I love social media for work. I’m not so sure I want so many people up in my business.’

‘Here lies Katie Cook. She had an epic adventure – I think, maybe, who knows?’

I smiled at Jen and downloaded the app onto my iPhone.

‘Fantastic, now what should we call you?’

‘Um, what about Katie Cook?’

‘Are you f*****g kidding me? You could just hang a sign around your neck that says “no imagination”.’

‘We could do that.’

‘It has to be something to do with tennis. What about Advantage Katie?’

I indicated the need to vomit.

‘Okay, what about LoveMatch?’

I mock projectile vomited.

Jen sat and visibly tossed ideas around in her head. Jen’s a talk-thinker. ‘I know, I know, it’s brilliant. What about @NotQuite30Love?’

‘No.’

‘You don’t get it. It’s because you’re twenty-eight and don’t have a boyfriend. It’s brilliant.’

‘I get it, Jen. I’m just not sure I want to advertise it.’

‘It’s not as desperate as being on E-Harmony.’

‘Which you’re on.’

‘Which I’m on and you should be.’

Jen was the same friend who goaded me into sleeping with that guy on the beach in Fiji. I woke up alone. Nuff said. She was right though. I needed a hook and it was clever. My input was to abbreviate it to @NQ30Love. Just cryptic enough to salvage some pride.

Jen grabbed my phone and took a pic of my empty flat. She posted my first story caption: ‘All packed up and somewhere epic to go #BigAdventure, #TennisDream.’ It was all linked up to my f*******: and on the net before I could chug my wine.

‘Now, instead of writing My Brilliant Career, you can post it,’ said Jen, totally chuffed with herself.