I tuck my phone in my back pocket, where it’s safe from any of the guys trying to respond for me. “I will later on. I’m not going to start a conversation, then leave her hanging while I’m here.” I turn to Donny. “So, how many sign-ups did you get today?”
He swipes on his phone to pull up the data. “Almost five hundred.”
“No shit? That seems like a good number.” I turn my bottle toward his to clink them together.
“Yeah, for the first day it is. We need to get to five hundred thousand or even five million though to make some real money on it.”
“It will happen. Just takes time, is all,” I try to reassure him. “Be proud of five hundred on the first day. Word will spread.”
Once I’m home and changed out of my business suit, I plop on the couch and check out the match I got. The app states general information about her so I know the kind of person I’m talking to, but doesn’t give away too much. Besides her first name, I learn that she is twenty-six, grew up in the city and now lives in SoHo, has a bachelor’s degree, and works in the downtown area at a job where she has to wear business attire. She has no kids, but wants some one day.
The information seems very random, but then maybe not. If she works downtown and wears business attire, I can only assume she has a decent career. No kids now is a plus, but I do think it’s cool that they put it out there right away that she does want kids someday. I live in Greenwich Village, which is pretty close to SoHo, so that’s good to know too. I wouldn’t want to start a relationship with someone in the Bronx or Jersey, just because, logistically, it would take too long to get there, and my time outside of work is already limited.
For the sake of helping my friend to see how well this app works, I bite the bullet and send her a text.
Zoe
I’m sitting on my bed, going over the drawings from today, when I hear an alert on my phone that I’m not used to. When I pick it up, I see it’s from Mystery Match. Not sure if I’m scared or excited, I swipe it on to see I have a direct message from a guy named David.
A sharp laugh escapes my mouth before I hit Accept. Of course, it’s my luck that I’d match with someone named David. Why can’t the asshat at work have an obscure name, like Cosmo or Artimus, so I never have to associate him with anyone else, especially a potential dating match?
I open the message to see a simple text.
Hi, Jenelle. It looks like you’re my first match. How are you?
I forget for a split second that I used my middle name for my profile, so it takes me a moment to realize that, yes, this message is indeed for me.
Figuringwhat’s the worst that could happen? I lean back in my bed and respond to the guy.
Hello! I’m good. I didn’t think I’d have a match on this so fast.
Me neither. I didn’t have any friends added until an hour ago. I think you were the only person he swiped to me as we sat at the bar.
Then, obviously, our friends thought we were a match. Have you ever done a dating app?
Ha! No!
Oh, sorry. That might have come off wrong. I don’t look down on people who do, but, no, I’ve never tried to hook up with someone through Tinder, if that’s what you’re asking.
I chuckle at his text, knowing what he means. But I like that he tried to correct himself for my sake.
No worries. I feel the same way. A friend of mine asked me to sign up, so here I am.
Sounds like we’re in the same boat. Tell me about yourself.
I type, delete, type some more, then delete it all. How do you explain yourself to someone you just met? I’m taking too long, so I just type what I’m thinking instead.
You know, I’ve never had to tell someone about myself. Like, what do I say? I have green eyes and blonde hair. That feels very lame.
I hit Send and bite the inside of my lip as I wait for his response. I know absolutely nothing about this guy, yet I have a little butterfly that is starting to swarm in my belly at the excitement of it all.
Well blonde hair is helpful. I know you work downtown and live in SoHo. So, we can skip all of that.
All my fears of online dating boil to the surface as my heart starts to pound. I have to admit, I’m super freaked out right now. I wonder if I should even respond or just block him altogether, but curiosity gets the best of me.
Um … how do you know that?
Ha! I’m not some crazy stalker. The app told me that and a few other things about you. Did you not see the notes about me before you responded?
