Profile: Emma. And a pic of her. A mirror selfie, with her hair down, wearing a wool sweater her Mom got her at Lord and Taylor. It's a closet staple, nothing too middle aged. She wears it once in a while when it starts to get cold out.
She doesn't talk to guys often. She swore to herself that she would get off dating apps completely, but she hasn't. She doesn't respond, she doesn't go on dates, it's not like that. Work has been more than she bargained for. She comes home, puts her bag on the desk, and shuffles to the stove to reheat leftovers. Later she lays in bed, usually scrolling. She probably checks the app once a day. She could justify it as a simple act of curiosity, or maybe she secretly wanted a change of pace, something to get her out of the apartment. If she was being honest, she loved the attention. Less out of desperation, more out of a strong urge to be loved the way she loved herself.
She was undeniably, strikingly, classically, beautiful. She had known this for a long time, longer than boys had liked her. The whole world would have to fall in love with her before she was satisfied. After shopping for dms for 5 minutes, she recognizes a name.
Sophomore year of college. They knew each other's faces, they noticed each other at dinner and sometimes in class. She remembers the two times they had spoken at parties. She would get buzzed enough to let guys walk up to her. He wasn't her type. And saying that he wasn't her type was being nice. She admitted to herself that she hated his face. His smile looked sneering, like it made you think he was always making fun of you. She remembers that he asked if she was seeing anyone. She lied and said yeah. He said ok, like that didn't matter to him as much as it maybe should. Weeks later she heard from a friend he had dropped out. She didn't look into it, she didn't care enough to confirm the rumor.
...
"I thought you were seeing someone."
Profile: Josh. And a pic of him. The flash turned on, holding a beer. Like my lie was at all important to him. Why would he make an effort to remember a detail like that?
"Yeah well, that was a long time ago."
"So you're interested."
"I didn't say that."
"What are you saying."
Flat, like he expects her to fill in the blanks as to what kind of tone he's going for. She doesn't have time for this. She doesn't have time to spend on this guy she knew for five minutes. Going outside should be easier than this.
Josh's typing bubble pops up again.
"Listen, I'm a bit too busy now but next weekend we could grab something to eat if ur down. Would love to ask how things have been with you."
Surprisingly sweet coming from a guy that likes finding excuses to make me look stupid. Maybe she misjudged him? Or maybe she doesn't wanna go out with a complete stranger. Worst case scenario she figures out what his whole deal is.
"Hmmm ur on thin ice pal. That sounds good, as long as you're paying."
"Deal. How does next Saturday 7pm sound?"
"Works for me, you'll pick me up?"
"Of course. See you then."
...
The week was dull. Dull enough for her to keep thinking about him, and wonder what she would find out about Josh. Sometimes she worried she didn't have enough dating experience to notice red flags. A part of her wondered if she was looking for bad guys. She rarely lied to herself, she knew what this was really about. It was hard to find a guy that was completely on board with fucking her like a little ragdoll. She wanted him to treat her like she weighed nothing, she wanted to be dicked the fuck down. First dates like that are hard to come by, she knew that. Josh wasn't much of a contender, he would probably be uncomfortable with just about everything. He would use her as a punchline with his buddies if she asked him to throw her against a wall. Better to just wait and see how insufferable this guy was and go from there.
...
"So, how long have you been in the city?"
He fidgeted with his wine glass while she considered not answering his question at all. She hated small talk, and she had already decided this was a mistake. He had clearly come straight from the office, and he clearly did this all the time. He had made a point of talking to the owner like they were old friends. Who is he showing off for?
"4 months give or take. What about you?"
"Oh wow, a newcomer haha. Um well I'm not exactly a native either, been here about a year now. Started off living with a roommate but a couple weeks ago I got my own place."
He smiles like he's proud of himself. She wonders what his life would be like if half his brain was missing.
"Oh yeah? What's your new place like?" She cracks her own smirk. Now she's the one making fun of him.
He shifts in his chair.
"Well I've finally got my own space, room for the desk and the books...ya know. It's the little things. Wish I had gotten more done by now ya know? All the guys at work, they've got wives and kids...I don't even have a dog yet." He looks down at his lap and smiles.
A brief pause, then he perks up again: "You ever feel that way? Like your life is moving too slow?" He looks nervous, the first moment of the night that has actually meant something.
...
