Jack Rossiter. I’m twenty-seven years old, single, and live with my best mate, Matt. Matt and I started hanging out when we were eight. Life was simpler then. Our idea of fashion was polyester. I told him I wanted to be a spy and he asked me who I’d marry. I imagined falling in love with a girl so perfect I couldn’t even guess her name. Things have changed since then. I did fall in love for a while but it didn’t work out. And single is good, single is fun.
Sometimes in my darker moments I’ve thought about applying to go on Blind Date. "She’s gorgeous, she’s from London, come in Amy Crosbie!" (Wolf whistling and applause.) Actually it’s a bit of a worry. I think it’s my warped way of telling myself something’s got to change. It’s been six months since I last had sex. Six months! I mean, I’ve got my own flat, I’ve got A levels – so come on down Mr Right. At least it would get my mother off my back.