Despite my longstanding distrust of strangers (stranger danger! ahhh!), I made the decision to conform to the rest of single society… I downloaded Hinge. Upon my first three swipes, I spotted something glorious… an acquaintance. Aaah. In fact, an acquaintance I had previously entertained the thought of hooking up with the summer before on a rooftop bar in New York City… until we ran out of things to talk about. After an hour, we parted ways happily and number-less.
In the digital land of dull, disconnected faces, an acquaintance was well welcome. A friendly face? I’ll swipe right to that.
So I agreed to go out with him. Unsure what more he could possibly want to discuss over a drink (sex? nahh), I was relieved to login to something with a non-stranger. Over text, we’d gently skirted the basic topics we’d previously exhausted, and I took satisfaction out of knowing I could pat myself on the back for doing something good for myself while maintaining a high level of confidence that the date would not go well. En route, I let a friend convince me that it was strange to go into the date not acknowledging the past mishap.
Greeting him with a hug and a whispered, “nice to see you again,” I learned thirty minutes later that he has a twin brother. The end.