Love Me Tinder

Elvis got it so wrong!

                                                                 

'Please pick up, please pick up. . . ' Molly whispered as she walked past the reception desk of her temp job and out into the cold dreary rain.

Confronted by a large gust of wind, she fiddled with the clasp on her umbrella hoping the rest of the world would appreciate the red and blue FCUK logo that dotted around the frilly edges just as much as she did.

Shuffle the words the right way round and it might actually give you an insight into just how screwed up her life had been in the last few months . . . parents in the middle of a bitter divorce battle, a mother in full on meltdown mode and a father who had just moved to the other end of the Country to get away from said, mother with his new thirty year old yoga instructor girlfriend 'Sandy'.

Add to that a crappy temp job and a non – existent love life and voila – You have all the makings of a hot mess!

Luckily for her hotness was the one thing she did have on her side; that and a Psychology degree which apparently in the 21st century means absolutely nothing at all! Not even worth the paper it's printed on.

She spent four years at Exeter University only to discover three things . . .

1. If you possess a double D bra size, you'll make it in this world.

2. If you can't tell the difference between fish and chicken BUT you can laugh at your own stupidity in true bimbo style (a fine art I'll have you know!) you'll make it in this world.

3. Every book that ''Sick Man Fraud'' (AKA Sigmund Freud) ever published was clearly a scream for help!

Another reality she found quite hard to swallow recently was that being an office temp totally SUCKED!

And if she was completely honest with herself this was the harshest reality of them all.

She found herself wondering, whether anyone could be THAT unlucky to have two unstable parents AND an unstable job? A job which she'd only recently discovered came with all the crappiness that everyone else has to endure MINUS the perks!

Get a load of this, apparently temps are not allowed to attend the office Christmas party because they are not considered 'proper' members of staff, they have limited holiday entitlement because of the same reason AND they barely get addressed by name, because well, nobody gives a . . . FCUK!

So you can imagine how much Molly's face lit up when her best friend Jess got her a French Connection umbrella as a birthday gift, which naturally resulted in the two friends addressing each other in this very manner (privately of course).

Pressing the phone against her ear, she hoped that by some Christmas miracle, her friend might answer her call on the first try.

But deep down she knew the only voice she'd be hearing would be that of the answer machine kind. After all this was an emergency and well, let's just say emergencies were not exactly her friend's strongest point.

'Jess, it's me Moll's.' She said a little too loudly, becoming increasingly frustrated at hurricane Albert (or was it Gilbert?) for insisting on blowing every single one of her syllables in the opposite direction. 'Call me ASAP. It's urgent, as in code red.'

Tucking her honey blonde hair into her black mac, she continued down Bond Street, taking great care to avoid the growing puddles and endless sea of umbrellas that, if she wasn't too careful, could potentially poke her eyes out.

Once inside the mall at Bond Street station, she greeted the warm air, from the vents above with a smug smile - debating whether she should grab a coffee from Pret or just head straight home.

After all, she was only one latte away from exceeding her monthly caffeine budget that her Mother had set in place for her a few months ago. But this had been an exceptionally stressful day and what are budgets for if not to be broken?

And before she knew what 'd hit her, she was on the escalator, coffee in one hand, drenched umbrella in the other, fantasizing about a hot bubble bath, fluffy white slippers and of course, Josh Logan. The unfathomably hot guy who approached her on Tinder that very morning. . .

At first glance, he didn't seem to be like all the other guys you'd expect to find on a dating app – -no, creepy bathroom selfies, or ridiculously annoying GIF's AND not a misused hashtag in sight (in fact no hashtags at all!) WIN!

He was absolutely perfect with his piercing blue eyes, dark hair and casual dress sense.

All it took was one glance (or in her case one swipe!) and her mind was made . . . he was to be her new year's eve kiss, her knight in shining armour – The one who'd save her from her car crash of a life.

There was just one small problem . . . he was also an international rock star.

                                                                                              

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