It doesn’t fit into the fluffy fodder of first dates, and there’s no way to tell this story without being the epitome of a buzzkill. But that’s the point: There’s more to a decision than meets the eye.
Now, at 24, in a new city, I’m neck-deep in dating culture, scrolling and swiping, wondering if any of it will ever feel like it means anything. But the part that wanted him to like me was crushed. I never announce I don’t drink, but I don’t make an effort to cover it up, either. It used to plunge me into social discomfort; a couple times, I ended up drinking more than I wanted to, just to prove a point.
Imagine this: you’re in a house by the beach, the rent is paid, and you’re lounging on a feather-stuffed futon in a silk robe.
You delicately shovel caviar into your mouth from well manicured fingertips, and sip a glass of champagne.
Unsure what to do, you open that dating app and start to swipe.
You see faces of potential partners wiz by and for a moment, it helps. We’ve all been in this moment – the moment when a twinge of loneliness spurs an online dating session.