User Unknown

Chapter 3: Games

I awkwardly laughed as I tried to answer her questions, mostly because I didn't really know how to. 

"No, he's not paying me. It's more like a game. I might ask him if he wants to start paying me, though. Imagine the lush shoes I could buy if random strangers started sending me money to make important life decisions for me. Ooooh, maybe I could start auctioning off my important life decisions...," My voice trailed off as I imagined the possibilities. I was joking, of course. Ish. 

"Please don't be mental," Sarah said, wagging a finger at me. "I read on the internet once that some girl sold her virginity to the highest bidder. Do you really want to be a trashy story in the Daily Monument? THE DAILY MONUMENT? It's like the worst of all newspapers."

She'd made a good point, but that didn't stop me from laughing about it in a conversation with my new anonymous friend later on that evening. 

anon~girl: How much would you pay me to make important life decisions on my behalf?

unknown*user: Aren't I already in charge of your life? Why would I suddenly start paying you?

anon~girl: I'm just messing around, but I was talking about our little game with a colleague earlier on. She thinks I'm weird. Actually, she thinks *we're* weird. But she asked if you were paying me to make decisions, kinda like a sugar baby situation, I'm guessing.

unknown*user: Are we calling this a game now? Also, is this your way of finding out how much money I earn?

anon~girl: I don't really care how much money you earn. I don't want your money. 😑

I threw in an emoji to show mock-offence, but if he actually wanted to send me money so he could make decisions on my behalf, I was totally down with that. I'd seen a couple of pairs of Christian Louboutin shoes that I really wanted to buy but couldn't afford with my own modest income, plus my phone bill had been extortionate that month. It wasn't even my income that was the problem; my relatively small two-bedroom flat took up almost all of my earnings, but that was the price you had to pay to live in a half-decent neighbourhood in the city's newest up-and-coming district. And as someone who had spent a fair bit of time in the 'rougher' parts of town, I was willing to spend a bit more money each month (or a lot) to be able to comfortably sleep in my bed without the fear of being robbed in the middle of the night. Once was enough for me.  

unknown*user: What *do* you want then?

His question felt like a loaded one. Was he flirting with me? Were we flirting? Was it even possible to flirt with someone when you knew absolutely nothing about them? Not the way they looked, smelled, sounded like, nothing?

anon~girl: In what way?

unknown*user: In any way you want.

And I thought about it for a moment. 

I did want to know more about him, but I also wanted to keep the protection that anonymity offered me. If I expected him to tell me more, I knew I would need to expect him to want to know more about me, too — and then what would happen? I'd already been virtually stalked by one crazy ex; I didn't fancy falling victim to another lunatic stalker. Plus, I knew the potential risks; we were anonymous. I could be anyone I wanted ... but so could he. 

So, once again, I decided to take a very honest approach:

anon~girl: I want to know more about you, but I also want to remain anonymous. I'm intrigued by you.

It felt like a really brave step for me, in my less-than-confident state, to make that first move. But was it even a first move at all when I essentially told him I wouldn't divulge any of my actual personal information? And how could it be the first move? Where did I really think this was going? I was intrigued by a man whose name I didn't even know, and thoroughly confused by the odd, self-inflicted predicament I'd found myself in — but that was nothing new for me.