Page 11 of The Swiping Game
I pour the coffee slowly, hoping to delay the mortification just a little bit longer.
“Come on,” Tawny says. “Let’s get this over with.”
I let out a sigh as I head back to the living room, hand my sister her cup, and take a big sip of mine before picking up my phone.
I don’t know what I expected to see when I opened the app. Granted, I’ve never been on a dating app before. The only frame of reference I have is from friends and coworkers and their horror stories. Based on that, I should be seeing a flood of dick pics and horrible pickup lines.
I don’t see any of those. Though I do see many men that I’ve apparently “matched” with. I quickly look at how this works, considering I know for a fact I didn’t read the terms and conditions last night. Apparently, you are only matched with someone who you not only swiped left for but who also meets a certain compatibility score.
“Oh God, we had to answer compatibility questions?”
“I’m scared to see my answers.”
I quickly scroll through the ten questions I had to answer. Luckily, the answers were multiple choice, which is good. Because if given the option to freely answer “Beach or mountains?” while drunk, I likely would have put something like “Sand in butt cracks or climbing rocks? Hard pass on both.”
I answered beach, which I guess is the best of the two options.
“Did we swipe on every man we came across last night?” Tawny says. “Because that is the only way I would have matched with this guy.”
I take a look at Tawny’s phone. “Why? He looks okay enough.”
She looks at it again and scrolls a little further before flashing it back to me. “He’s a Capricorn.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes at my free-spirited sister. I have no idea what any of that zodiac stuff means, but she lives and dies by it.
For the next hour, we continue looking at the carnage from last night. All and all, it could have been worse. There are some men I automatically unmatch with because, well, I’ll blame the schnaps for the matching in the first place. There are a few I send a message to, and a few that after reading their first messages to me, I politely say thanks, but no thanks.
“What do you have left?” Tawny asks. “I’m down to three, and none of them are holding up pictures of fish, so I’m taking that as a win.”
“Is that a thing?”
“Yep. If he’s holding a fish, that’s a giant red flag.”
That doesn’t make any sense. “Maybe he likes to fish?”
“Oh, sister,” Tawny says as she reaches over to pat my leg. “I have so much to teach you.”
“Whatever. Anyway, I haveone match.”
Tawny moves next to me on the couch and takes my phone from me. “Let’s see. James, thirty-five and a lawyer. Not my type, but I can see you going for that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m just saying I go for the more creative types. But a lawyer? That is right up your alley.”
I don’t even bother arguing, because she’s right. “What else does it say?”
Tawny scrolls a little bit more. “It says he enjoys suspense novels, prefers vanilla over chocolate ice cream, and that his perfect night in is a quiet meal followed by documentary watching.”
Oh God, I think I’m in love. I know the topic of love at first sight is argued, but what about love at first profile-read. Because this man? As I steal my phone back from Tawny and pore over every word and every answer to his compatibility quiz, the more I think I’ve found my dream man.
I swear to God, if he tells me that he also has a penchant for donuts and believes that Thanksgiving is an overrated holiday, I’ll marry him on the spot.
The only problem with this man is that I can’t see his face. He only has one picture up on his profile, and it was taken from behind him as he stood looking out over a sunset from what looks like the top of a mountain.
Maybe I’d climb a mountain if I got to do it with him.
“So? What are you going to do?”
