Once Kismet got in to the wild things started to snowball quite quickly. Claire’s dad actually offered to fund it, partly. What do you say to that? I said yes.
Was it a good idea? No.
Was it well thought out? No.
Was it something I regretted instantly? No.
Because in that instant I thought that Kismet could fail and an injection of cash could actually be helpful, and it was substantial, I mean he was substantial, that was part of the problem. Claire had certain expectations in life that in truth had come from her parents. I had to live up to those expectations so why shouldn’t they help.
However I still had my actual job, sure, but this was my big chance so I did what anyone would do in that situation, I took all that money and I hired a firm in India to build the app for me.
This was quite easy. Luckily, because I had been lying about it so much I had a really good idea of what it would look like, what it would do, how it would work, everything.
What I did not know was how to choose a good app developer. I rushed that part and just googled it. Long story short, about three weeks later they had used up all the money that I had given them. I’d said I wanted it fast and they had agreed to put three teams on it to get it done fast.
However there was a concept called burn rate that I had not understood, even though it was very well detailed in the contract that I did not read and which I did not get anyone else to read, I was in this alone. What they explained was that to get it finished I’d need another big chunk of cash, cash I didn’t have except, I sort of did, since I had a credit card, so I did that.
Two weeks later that money was gone too and I didn’t have Kismet. Nor did they, and they also wouldn’t give me what they did have because at this point they said I owed them more money.
I had to make a call, pursue them legally (remember, I now have no cash or credit), give them cash (see previous brackets) or give up.
So I gave up. What little money I did have I took to the pub with me and my goodness, did I get wasted. Absolutely hammered. The jig was up, game over, end of, all of it. I don’t know how I got home. I did wake up on the living room floor at about midday with a note next to me saying Claire had called in sick for me.
Caring to the end I absolutely positively did not want to own up to any of this. So, still hungover, I packed up everything that I owned in the flat, put it in my car, and drove home.