Sometimes I wonder if we’ll show up at each other’s funerals and stuff.
«Yes… and then we have Anders, Henrik and Ole, here. These fellas come all the way from Trondheim, you see. As they-all- had these so-called Online Affair with Julie, -in 2008, 2017 and 2025 respectively. Because it was in 2008, or what, Anders? ».
Whereupon Anders would explain that most took place in 08, absolutely. But also a bit during the winter, of 2015.
Initiatively, there was supposed to be a fourth man, also joining, -in the group of men, travelling from Trondheim. But when this fourth guy found out that our affair had happened the same exact week as mine and Henrik’s, he cancelled, at the very last minute. This was Frank’s only experience with Online Dating, ever, – and it turned out that I had made a bigger impression on him than he had done on me. That probably had to do with the fact that he was newly divorced at the time, – while I had The Time Of My Life, that same exact week. Much thanks to Henrik, of course, but also because of a physical meeting in the basement of Dr. Jekylls Pub, in Oslo. That being said, my spark was “fully lit” and I could sprinkle it out on others. I was, quite simply, a firework of good vibes, wise advices and great series-suggestions. And that was all it took, back then, to make Frank both lovesick and desperately longing.
Sometimes I wonder how they`re all doing. Do they live? Has anyone died? How did it go, with the guy on Nordstrand? Who bought three rabbits, to please the kids. Who hadn`t checked out how long they lived (which is ten years. At least. Which is a little, – when you`re fifty yourself). And what about this farmer who desperately wanted some children? Who was the one to take over the farm and therefore couldn`t move. Did he manage to persuade a girl, eventually? Where there children, running around the farm, today? And what about the man I wrote with for several years? Which I met once, but where there was zero chemistry, but whom I still found so superlysweet! If I`m not completely mistaken, we were pen pals, by definition (!). Pen pals, for years! On Tinder! Small, random meetings. People. Fates. And imprints.
Being on Tinder now is like flipping through an old photo album. Oh, I remember him!! Oh, yes! Such a fine looking man! Fine! Fine! Fine! Fine! What happened to him, exactly? Didn’t he move to Canada, or something?! (and then you spend the next hour on Facebook, checking). And then you have the next one, of course. Oh, look at that! Jon Christian! As I live and die! Well, well, well. I guess that lady didn`t last long, then. And then, suddenly, you remember something he once said. And you start giggling. And then. IT, comes. The inevitable. So, what exactly, happened there, again? With us? Was he checked out, too soon, possibly…? He always had this smart remark, didn`t he? Quite funny, actually. Followed by a long pause, – and a long-lasting «hmm».
I imagine it would be small tables. With small signs. Saying “Colleagues from Kongerød”, on one. “Colleagues from Lambertseter”, on another. “Customers”, on a third (ie real customers. Female customers. Customers who are constantly standing (!) (for some reason I feel the urge to explain what kind of customers we, here, are talking about). So, yes. These were real customers, -from my sole proprietorship. Which has never, ever, as long as existed, not once, sold any kind of sexual services. Not even a well-worn panty, has this proprietorship, sold. Not one! (despite countless tips, about just that, as a way of life in difficult times.) No. Magically, I had always managed without. Somehow, or the other, I have managed to keep them, myself.
Then it would be a bigger table. With many chairs. To all of mom’s men. It would either say that, or just «Tinder». With red lettering, -and hearts on. And there, they would sit. Sit and listen. Crying and laughing. Both «Superman», «humble32» and «MrWantItAll». And many more. While “Biscuit” would be in the coffin (this was, in fact, my first dating pseudonym and I can only hope that I had a healthy, ironic and distant take on it. Some things are erased over time. Thank God).
Yes! And the music we were going to play? “Allein die Liebe zählt im Leben”, of course. By Semino Rossi. A German singer who both reminded me of an art-loving guy from Bergen, – and which by the thought of these men, in suits, sitting there, in all their seriousness, listening to this song -track through- probably would make me laugh, all the way from the other side. And then, on their way home, they would laugh too. And so, I wanted to be remembered. And also, in a way, finally get to be
The one that got away