The wonderful thing about being single is the support of friends. They’ll be honest when you mess up (‘maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned to your date that you forwarded screenshots of the WhatsApp conversation between the two of you to your mates,’ Tom said), but they don’t judge you for it. When I was feeling a little heartbroken over James referring to me as a bunny boiler (though he can now count three consecutive blog mentions), Tom had me laughing. ‘I don’t even have an alcohol licence yet so I don’t have any booze at home,’ I said.
‘Instead of asking how your mates are when they arrive, you’ll be rifling through their luggage asking if they had brought five bottles of wine,’ he teased. ‘Just send James this…’ he messaged, after our call. A few seconds passed by while he looked for the rabbit head emoji…

‘Get on Happn. It’s where I met my boyfriend,’ Sophie WhatsApped me. ‘Don’t use Tinder – it’s a shag app. And don’t date anyone called Mohamed, Mo, Mahmoud, Ahmed or Adham,’ she advised.
‘But I think I’ve found my future husband,’ I replied, forwarding what looked like a D&G campaign image belonging to a Tinder profile.
‘Omg – he’s hot. Maybe just one date…’
‘I couldn’t continue the conversation after he told me he’s Egyptian and manages a fitness shop. You’d think travelling would broaden our horizons, but I think it’s making me more racist!’

Instead, I went on a date with a 40-something Dutchman. ‘How did it go?’ Mark asked afterwards.
‘He was funny, smart and lovely. Plus, he took me to a great restaurant and ordered a good bottle,’ I replied. ‘But he seemed a bit on the mature side. This is my problem – I fancy immature boys.’
‘Nothing wrong with a 40-something,’ Mark laughed. ‘And we’ve got experience where it matters’.
‘You’re either attracted to someone or you’re not,’ Monique said. ‘It’s hard to fake that one. Except, of course, if he’s throwing down billions – then I’d lie on my back,’ she teased.

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