The Highs & MerLOWS

She slammed her laptop shut after a long, virtual workday and grabbed a glass of ice-cold water. She couldn’t even recall which day it was; she just knew it was day one-hundred-and-something of being cooped up in her small, D.C. studio apartment for a government mandate that required everyone to “quarantine”—a term she had only previously heard in horror movies. She had been working from home, the new norm, for what seemed like forever at this point and each day seemed to bleed into the next. Although, the introverted, lone wolf side of her was enjoying being in quarantine, even if it wasn’t by choice. Still, like most others, she experienced bouts of cabin fever and anxiety, sometimes depression, knowing there was this mysterious, deadly virus going around that the world was struggling to contain. Some people had lost their jobs, others were dying, and she had recently moved into her own place, living alone for the first time in her life. Not having anyone physically there for consolation hit hard, but this stagnant, solitary state forced her to sit with her emotions and begin processing them, including the negative ones that persisted from her previous romantic relationship that ended over a year ago. She knew she had to remain positive and keep herself entertained in healthy ways. Fortunately, she had all of the resources on-hand to do so. She had equipment to exercise when she wanted to, several TV streaming subscriptions, books, art supplies, as well as plenty of food, alcohol, and toilet paper after stocking up. She was also granted the gift of time, allowing her to focus on her dog, Gatsby, and other things that had been previously neglected. One of those things was something she had subconsciously been avoiding for some time: dating.

After several months of being locked up in solitude, she had grown comfortable with herself and felt genuinely grateful. In addition to all of the material things, she still had a good full-time job, was starting a business on the side, no children, and was young enough, at 28, that she felt confident she could find someone within or around her age group that was equally a catch and ready to settle down. Thus, she couldn’t pinpoint why dating was so daunting to her. Maybe it wasn’t the idea of dating alone, rather, it was the idea of using a smartphone application and relying on algorithms to initiate and accomplish such a task, as if it were just that—some simple task. She had heard stories, good and bad, surrounding online dating apps, but being an intuitive person and a self-proclaimed realist, she knew she would eventually have to find out for herself. She worried that as a black woman, particularly in light of all of the racial tensions at the time, she would be deemed undesirable by most or desirable for the wrong reasons. She shamefully began imagining herself as a product listed for sale in a catalog, where people, specifically men in her case, could browse through photos and a list of features and if they’re interested, make an offer; otherwise, they turn the page and keep looking. Everything about the concept of using an app to date seemed so impersonal, unappealing, and even a little degrading. She had high hopes to meet someone while out and about, through friends, or her job instead, but as time went on and the country descended deeper into the pit of the pandemic, her hope began to dwindle in favor of loneliness. She realized she had to “put herself out there” as they say and that meant stepping outside of her comfort zone and doing something she wouldn’t normally do. Thus, on the evening of this day, whichever day it was, she took the plunge and downloaded a dating app.

Naturally, being new to the game, creating a good profile for herself was challenging. She enlisted the help of her best friend, Nora to choose 6 quality photos representing her in different lighting, angles, and settings as well as 3 prompts. After uploading photos to the app, answering the prompts, and selecting some of her preferences, her profile went live. Shortly thereafter, she made sure the notification settings were turned off and quickly force-killed the app.

In the meantime, she kept herself busy looking for anything and everything to do around her apartment, so she wouldn’t keep checking the app incessantly. Finally, when 10 PM rolled around and she had already become a big ball of anxiety, she opened it back up: 26 likes. By this time, her glass of water had been replaced by a room-temperature glass of red wine, so while she did feel overwhelmed at first, it didn’t last long. Instead, she now felt a sense of flattery and became intrigued. Suddenly, she understood why society was so obsessed with these apps; they’re used as an easy ego boost or source of validation. It’s like, “Hey! All these people want to date me! I must be pretty good-looking and awesome.”

She took a deep breath and opened the first like. It came from an attractive, tall, dark skin man with short, well-trimmed, wavy hair, a full beard, and an even fuller smile. “Ok, off to a good start,” she thought to herself as she carefully browsed and screened his profile. It mentioned he was 31, worked as a systems analyst, lived downtown, was liberal, went to George Mason University, drank sometimes, didn’t smoke cigarettes or do any crazy hard drugs, and lastly, to her demise: had children. Her heart sank as she clicked the X button to deny him as a match; she knew a man with children would be a deal breaker for her due to her fear of “baby mama drama.” The next profile she opened was that of a disheveled white man dressed in an elephant costume as the first photo—easy pass. Of those first 26 likes, she ended up matching with about 8 men. Of those 8 men, only about 3 of them actually messaged her, and of those 3 messages, she only managed to gain stimulating conversation from one of them.

Needless to say, she was quickly humbled and fell off her high horse. Now, having realized it’s relatively easy to obtain likes, but the probability of finding a genuine connection was slim—she was totally thrilled and captivated by this one guy. There was nothing special about him that she could identify yet, aside from the fact that based on his profile, he seemed to check all her boxes [boxes she had not concisely defined yet] and matched her energy via text. Her inbox was now flooded with thoughtful messages complete with emojis and exclamation marks, which was a win in her book. They exchanged paragraphs venting about the pandemic and detailing their past travel experiences out of nostalgia, since travel-withdrawal had become the harsh reality. She found herself having something more to look forward to and she couldn’t wait to meet him in person, so when he finally asked for her number and to Facetime after about a week of chatting online, she was ecstatic. Then, reality kicked in and she started feeling nervous. After attending several video calls for work and virtual family gatherings, she had grown somewhat accustomed to them. Yet, she still stressed about leaving a bad first impression, something she usually didn’t have to worry about when meeting someone in person because she could let her energy speak for itself. Regardless, she didn’t want to miss out on her first online dating opportunity, so she agreed and they planned the call for the following evening at 7 PM.

As time grew closer to the date, she found herself in a state of panic. She hadn’t been on a date in over a year and had no idea what she was doing. She frantically began Googling whatever she could from, “how to wear makeup for Facetime date” to “what questions to ask on first date.” In her quest to find answers, she ended up with more questions. She encountered endless articles with headlines that basically read, “Online Dating Sucks & the Pandemic Has Made It Worse.” She ignored the stigma for the time being and ultimately opted for a ruffled black blouse, left her dark brown, 3B hair out in its natural state, and went with a bright red lip for that extra wow-factor [and to hide any potential red wine lip stains]. She typed up about 10 questions she believed would make for good conversation and printed them out in large font, so that if she forgot any of them she could quickly glance down at the paper for support. Unsurprisingly, 7 PM rolled around quicker than she could screw her head back on straight and finish her second glass of wine; she needed the liquid courage now more than ever. She sat in her home desk chair, staring at her phone, the glare of her ring light highlighting her impatience. It was now 7:19— “Did he forget?!” she wondered, trying not to freak out, yet she already was. She had been texting Nora to vent when finally, around 7:30, her phone rang prompting her to accept a video call; it was him.

His name was Julian. Despite being slightly disappointed by his tardiness, she immediately perked up and greeted him once his face appeared on the screen, relieved that it matched his photos. He also seemed pleased by what he saw and was grinning, but never acknowledged the fact that he was 30 minutes late. Being the sensitive, selectively extroverted introvert that she is, she decided to address it herself. “I thought you forgot about me or something!” she blurted out, causing his nervousness to escalate right before her eyes. He began preening himself and looking away from the camera when he responded stating he had gotten caught up doing something else unexpectedly, but was glad she still picked up the call and most importantly, wasn’t a catfish. She brushed it off and the conversation flowed seamlessly, just as it did via text. After conversing and laughing for a good 45 minutes or so and even having exchanged brief apartment tours, she was feeling the connection. She was positive he was too, until suddenly, he interrupted her mid-speech. “Hey sorry, but my business partner just got here… got to go” and the call dropped abruptly. She sat there perplexed, replaying it all head. By the way he briefly paused and looked back after mentioning his “business partner” had just arrived, she assumed he was going to introduce her or something, but that was wishful thinking. Subsequently, the negative thoughts came pouring in and her insecurities were raised to the surface:

“Business partner?! Yeah right, he probably has a wife.”

“He probably didn’t think you were that attractive.”

“You probably got lipstick on your teeth.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like the way you talk.”

“What if you were too intense and aggressive?!”

“Does that even count as a first date since it was on video?!”

“Cuffing season started a couple of months ago; you’re too late to the game.”

She placed her phone face-down on the coffee table and laid on her sofa in sorrow for a while before she ultimately decided to pour herself another glass of wine. This time, some Merlot from a fancy, expensive-looking bottle her ex-boss had gifted her during the holidays almost a year ago. She picked her phone back up and re-opened the dating app: 11 new likes and 4 new messages. She let out a deep sigh and muttered, “Let’s try this again,” glancing over at Gatsby, who had been lying across the room watching her the entire time, a steady smirk on his furry face. She then turned back to her phone, “Hey Siri, play 'Single AF' by Fousheé”.