Page 9 of Swiped
He leaned forward, poised with his arms folded on the table like he was chairman of the Model UN.He probably even had a special gavel. He looked into her eyes and grinned. A chill coursed through her spine.
“Just curious,” he said. “Have you ever used your own app?”
Awhooshof panic roared into Nat’s ears as all eyes fixed on her and his question hung in the air. The same question he had already forced her to answer backstage. Rami raised his thick eyebrows in a collegial way, eyes shining with a kind of sinister glee. She snapped, “As I’ve said in multiple interviews, I spent five years of my life beta-testing BeTwo every single day—”
“No, I mean, have you everreallyused it to try and find someone to love?” He kept his eyes locked on hers with a wolfish smile. He gave little shrugs as if the words were just occurring to him, as if he were genuinely curious to find out her answer. “Thrown yourself into your pool of users? Put yourself at the mercy of a swipe?”
The rows and rows of people in seats swirled in her vision as Nat fumbled for something to say. She’d never talked this publicly about her dating life before — on purpose. “I want to find a partner someday, but for now I’m happy being single.” The words felt small in the huge room as soon as she finished the sentence. The faces in the front rows stared blankly at her. “And when the time comes,” she blurted, ad-libbing. “When the time comes, I’m sure I will create a profile, OK?”
Tracy seized the moment. “Now, that’s interesting,” she said, eyes narrowing. “Nat, you play Cupid for millions of strangers, yet you’re happily unattached?”
Nat tried to smile. “Yes, but, I mean, it’s just for now . . . While I focus on my business!”
Christine tapped her mic. “Girl, you could catch a man in a hot minute,” she said, nodding sagely.
“Th . . . thanks,” Nat stammered. “You too.”
Christine cringed. “Gross, no thanks!”
Before Nat could say anything, Rami chimed in again. “So, since you’ve never actually engaged with your own app as a user, let me tell you what your data doesn’t show.”
Anger flared hot in Nat’s stomach.Keep my data out of your absurdly perfect mouth!She forced out a more stage-friendly response. “I’m sure nothing will surprise me.”
Rami gave her a sympathetic nod, almost apologetic. “Well, your app is single-handedly destroying the fabric of human decency. Did you know that?”
“That must have slipped my mind.”
Nat gritted her teeth as Rami rose, seizing his moment like the smug debate star she’d always dreaded back in her Academic Decathlon days.
“I see. You talk about your nuanced algorithm, but the only thing your app creates are superficial snap judgments.” He walked to the front of the stage, gesturing to the audience. “Swipe away anyone who doesn’t fit your exact standards at that exact millisecond, because who cares? Have sex with someone and never call them again, because who cares? There’s always a sea of new faces to fulfill all your custom desires.” Nat watched in horror as several people nodded along in the crowd as he continued. “It’s like buying a car. Leather seats, but not wood paneling. Blonde, fit, lucrative job, but not too short. Dear Lord, not too short!”
“You’re describing the paradox of choice — the more options you have, the less satisfying your choice will be,” Tracy chimed in, putting on a pair of black-rimmed glasses that she seemedto have materialized for exactly this serious turn. “That’s a fair point. What do you say to that, Nat?”
Nat shook her head with a deep frown. “No! No, he’s missing the point entirely.”
“Really?” said Rami, striding over toward her. Nat stood and walked up to cut him off, meeting him halfway. They stood center stage and close enough to touch. “Or maybe I see the point better than you do because I’ve actually used your app?”
He fixed her with a look that she could imagine being very happy to see in different circumstances — wise eyes, soft smile, a shadow of stubble giving him a delicious edge. But then he had more to say.
“BeTwo isn’t a dating app. It’s ashoppingapp. And I think it’s disgusting.”
At that pithy indictment, the audience finally came back to life with a mix of applause, some cheers, and some booing. Nat felt her legs wobble. It was impossible for her to tell how many of the reactions were in her favor, but she knew she hadn’t completely lost them . . . yet.
“Nat, any response to that?” asked Tracy.
“Over two million users would say he’s wrong,” Nat said, refocusing on Tracy’s unflappable cool.
“Would they?” Rami interjected. She was determined not to look his way, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see him returning to his seat. “Or does this way of dating just seem normal because everyone is doing it? Except it doesn’t even work! It’s all hookups and dick pics and a thousand sad nights at a bar that might as well never have happened, except that each one crushes your soul just a little bit more.”
“Wow, dramatic much?” Nat cracked over a few cheers for Rami’s rant.
“Oh really?” Rami countered. “Who is finding a quality connection on BeTwo? Anyone?”
Nat laughed. “Tons of people! Every day!” Now it was her turn to work the audience. She gestured to them like a magnanimous queen. “Lots of you, right?”
Except she didn’t get the rousing applause she’d expected — more like a few scattered, uncertain claps. She was losing them. She was losing this. And that couldn’t happen.
Especially not with him.
