A Date To Remember

Mel’s right ring finger tapped at her L key, light enough so it wouldn’t fully press in, yet enough pressure to create a rhythmic, high pitched plunk. She wondered what would happen to her computer if she actually pressed the L hard enough. Would it close out all her tabs? Invite a virus to wipe out her files? Pull out a link to aggressive porn while sharing her screen for all Zoom participants to witness? Or better yet, could it kick her out of this meeting and allow her to blame it on technical issues?

The L was tapped, over and over again; L for Long, L for Lame, L for the dirty Ladle in her sink, L for Lacking motivation to stay awake. L for Love. Mel’s shoulders moved an inch backwards as she thought of the event occurring after this gathering of floating heads against bland backgrounds. She was going on a date tonight.

He was a Capricorn who had a Cockatoo and did architecture. He liked to take pictures of pasta, seemed avid about activism, and worked out in a non off-putting sort of way. He appeared to live by himself and, based on his Instagram, had good taste in home décor. His name was...she should remember. While keeping her eyes focused on whatever her boss was spewing, Mel opened Hinge and located their chat. Robert! His name was Robert. Mel went through any possible word associations to help her hang on to Robert. Architect Robert. Robert Builds. Robert the Builder. Bob the Builder! There it was. As long as she didn’t accidentally call him that later.

Fortunately the next hour flew by and she could start preparing. After dinner, she perched a glass of wine by her makeup brushes as she applied her concealer, even though she would sit in front of her lamp with the flattering light. Her chest tightened as 9:00 inched closer, but there was comfort in knowing she could simply end the call if things went awry. A wonderful concept.

Mel had just finished her mascara when she heard the bubbling sound of an incoming Facetime. He was five minutes early. In a frenzy, she shoved her makeup out of view, grabbed her glass, and propped her phone against the flattering lamp. She settled on her floor pillow, took a deep breath, and accepted the call at the last ring.

“Hi!” Her voice had gone up an octave, but he didn’t know that.

“Hey there!” His voice was a delightful warble, warm and low in his chest. Mel’s face brightened and she immediately felt silly and exposed. They exchanged technical information first; she told him about her job as a social media marketer and he told her about how he got into rendering office buildings. She then nearly revealed how bored and unchallenged she felt at her job and how she felt she was wasting her life there, but a voice (her mother’s, probably) popped in her head instructing to “not to let the crazy out all at once, now.”

“Can I ask ya what you’re drinking?” Bob the Builder said while, of course, a charmingly crooked smile revealed his straight teeth.

“Red wine. A, uh, Merlot. I think.”

“Not much of a sommelier?”

“I think as long as it stings, I like it.”

An abrupt laugh burst from his chest, and Mel’s stomach tingled. She would have to watch how many glasses she had or else words of want would begin spilling out of her.

More talking and more pouring occurred. When she tapped at her phone to look at the time, it was difficult not to react - they had been talking for several hours and she hadn’t even noticed. He was adorable yet sexy, had a good job, as well as passions, hobbies, a good relationship with his parents, and he looked really good in his black fitted tee. Mel began to wonder how this man dropped into her life and how she would mess it up.

She wasn’t the only one shocked at the hour. “Wow. I can’t remember the last time I talked to someone till morning.”

“What do you mean, I do this all the time,” Mel said dryly. He laughed again, and she smiled with her teeth showing in spite of herself. She felt a strong urge to tell his man about every single event in her personal timeline. She repressed it by talking about alcohol instead. “So how many Manhattans deep are you?”

“Oh, three, or...um. Four? I think I actually lost count!”

“Oh no!”

“Oh nooo!” He drew out his no until it broke apart in a fit of hearty giggles. God, had she ever had this much fun on a date? And it was on a screen no less, on which she was forced to notice in the corner a miniature box containing her wine-reddened cheeks and creased concealer.

Bob the Builder’s face was now serious and asked, “May I say something?”

Wow, he’s cute. “The floor is yours.” Mel assumed the facial expression of a no-nonsense moderator.

“I think you’re -” Then for the first time, his warm expression froze in time, his eyes unblinking and his hand stood still in mid gesture. Mel cursed to herself and was about to take her phone off Wi-Fi when the virtual rendering of his body caught up to speed. “- the one.”

“Sorry, what?”

“I said, I thi -” and he disappeared from her phone. Her date had just left the chat.

“No, no, no no no,” Mel murmured under her breath. Did he just say what she thought he said? One moment they were cracking up, the next he was telling her that she was...the one? The one one? Mel stood up and sat immediately back down, knocked out from the bottle of wine racing through her bloodstream. She reached for the mason jar of water on her desk and gulped down its contents in seconds, spilling several drops on her blouse. She spread out her legs on the floor and slouched, resembling a toddler who failed at walking. She tried to think rationally; the Wi-Fi had gone out, so there were likely words in between “I think you’re” and “the one”...but what? What could they possibly be? The two sections went so well together that she couldn’t imagine anything of substance sandwiched in between.

Mel grabbed her phone. Still no call back. Maybe he passed out. Or maybe had an aneurysm. Or was so embarrassed by professing love on the first date that he decided to ghost her entirely. She imagined them if they were on a real date what even was a real date anymore and him abruptly getting up and leaving the table. But he wouldn’t have done that on a real date. Would he?

Mel drank more water. The date was going unbelievably well. She was hoping for an hour of decent conversation at the most, but not fireworks, not mutual understanding, not someone who felt the same way she did about everything she knew to have an opinion on. What if he was “the one”? Mel stared unblinkingly at her tastefully pink wall and said the words out loud. The. One. Sensations of ecstasy and unease flowed through her, as if a mug of hot tea and a pitcher of ice water were both being emptied down her back. After hundreds of flat, beige dates, was this the person she was meant to find? Images of a potential future began to flash: him with her parents over brunch, him playing a board game with her cousins, the two of them dancing and smiling among all their friends under a ceiling of twinkling lights. She could do it. She could say it back. She wanted to say it back. Love at first sight was a real thing, a rare but real thing that people had. Her best friend’s fiancée had professed he was going to marry her on their third date; why couldn’t someone say she was the one on a first?

Urgency buzzed in her palm, accompanied by that technified bubble sound. The rhythmic noise translated to it’s him. It’s him. It’s him. She whipped around to the mirror over her bed to inspect what was left of her face. With the efficiency of a pit crew, she wiped away the mascara rings under her eyes, smoothed down her flyaways, and checked her armpits before realizing scent was not relevant in this situation. Again, Mel answered on the last ring, pasting on her face the most nonchalant expression she owned.

“Long time no see.”

“I’m so sorry about that, my signal was cutting out, and then I didn’t even realize my phone was at one percent -”

“Oh no worries, I was just...hanging out.”

“What were we even talking about?”

He didn’t remember? “Oh. I’m not sure, I think I was asking how many drinks you had -”

“Oh right, thank you! Then I said…hmm....”

Mel held her breath. This was it. The glow from her lamp illuminated his face and she felt like she was inside a dream. As his chiseled jaw dropped slightly in thought, she concentrated on her response and fought not to linger on what their kids would look like.

“I believe I was trying to make a joke about how you were only having one drink but that the one drink was the whole bottle? Or something.”

“You -”

“Very dumb joke, I am seeing that now.”

Mel’s throat constricted. “Oh. No, not dumb, just - I don’t think I heard the whole thing.”

“Was that when I was cutting out? Thank God.”

Mel swallowed dry air and spoke smoothly. “Can you repeat what you said exactly?”

“Uh, exactly?”

“Try.”

“Okay. Well. I think I said...oh! It was something like, ‘I think you’re having just the one?’ Wow, yeah, it doesn’t even make sense. I should never try to improvise while drinking.” Robert laughed his beautiful laugh, then abruptly stopped when he locked eyes with Mel. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah totally!” She threw in a light giggle for good measure. Robert coughed politely and began excusing his Wi-Fi while Mel noticed how far back his hairline was. She saw that his glasses were dirty. Shockingly, she hadn’t noted the Sublime poster hung behind him. In just a few minutes the energy had shifted from sparks bouncing off their cyber walls to a boredom she only experienced at meetings that could’ve been emails. She knew she had to make the first move.

“It is pretty late.”

“You are quite correct.” His cadence almost made her wince.

“Let’s chat again sometime,” she said as her pastel blue nails dug into her forearm, knowing her only desire was deleting his number.

“I’d love that! Well, good night, I suppose!” The sparkle in his eyes had dulled, and even though they were several miles away she could feel his disappointment on her skin.

Mel ended the call and tossed the evidence on her bed. Well, you were wondering how you’d mess this up, a voice nagged in her ear. She blew air through her lips and dragged her feet to the bathroom. Makeup that was so carefully painted was wiped away in seconds. As she brushed her teeth, she supposed she had just experienced a literal dream date; one that carried her onto clouds of bemused bliss until a shortage in the frequency sent her soaring back to earth.

After she was scrubbed clean and all the lights were out, Mel crawled into bed and reopened Hinge, fixating on the stubbled face and mahogany eyes she was so drawn to. She felt bad for him, the dream man named Robert, but reassured herself that he would move on. She wasn’t sure if she would. At least not for a bit. For the tenth time that year, she deleted the app. Then Mel closed her eyes and drifted into a dream with a happy ending she had control over.