"A Reputation To Keep"

I have a lot of allergies. Peanuts. Tree nuts. Seeds. Legumes. And dating apps.

I know, I know, a lot of people have met the loves of their lives by swipe, swipe, swiping. Beyond perfect couples that I personally know, envy, and aspire to be just like have met that way. 

But it’s just so incredibly… unromantic!

In the most un-enchanting version of my imaginary future wedding reception, my Maid of Honor takes the mic to re-count to a room of boozy loved ones the first time she heard me mention my husband to-be.

“We were sitting on the couch on our 2nd glass of cab. She was swiping. He messaged her right away. And the rest was history.” 

…THAT’S IT?! Where is the romance? The lighting bolt? Time stopping because the bat cracked, the ball flew over the fence, and it was the home run that started off our World Series level love story? The meet-cute. I want justice for the meet-cute!

You know, a meet-cute?

My junior year of college, one of my dearest friends studied abroad in London for the entire year. She was walking home from class in the middle of a sunny afternoon when all of a sudden, it started pouring. 

Her blonde hair slicked flat against her temples and her eyes sparkled through rain smudged mascara as we FaceTimed.

“I didn’t have an umbrella so I tried to duck for cover at the doorway of this random building. It wasn’t very deep so half of my body was still getting completely soaked and I looked up to see a guy doing the same thing across the street. One minute we were starring at each other through the rain and the next he had jogged over and his umbrella was over both of us.”

Le swoon.

Getting caught in a rainstorm with a handsome stranger -OR- a swipe leading to meeting for tapas that, historically speaking, will be so miserably awkward that you will wish you could morph into one the restaurants decorative pillows.

If meet-cutes are Dr. Jeckels, then dating apps are *mostly Mr. Hydes.

Those of you who know me personally, know my brain operates somewhere in-between a Disney movie and an Old Hollywood film. And if you don’t know me personally, let’s just say that if Captain John Smith and Grace Kelly don’t star in the movie written loosely around my post-2020 dating life, then I will be very disappointed with the casting director. 

What’s that old saying? Beggars cannot be choosers. 

I’m certainly in the beggar boat. No exaggeration, I can count on my hands how many times I have left my home in the past 5 months.

But my aversion to apps comes from experience! I’ve certainly had my share of Hinge/Bumble relationships, some way short and some way not. Aside from the whole lack of catching Casa Blanca “here’s looking at you kid” eyes across a crowded bar, I’m simply… allergic to them.

Preface: This absolutely is a personal problem. But those of you who haven’t found Mr. Darcy on the internet either, may find you have similar roots of intolerance.

The first:

My imagination is wild. 

It’s usually a quality I cherish, but there are times when it destructively runs amuck. (This is why I cannot watch scary movies –– I will close my eyes and end up imagining something 10x worse than what is on the screen and it will haunt me FOR MONTHS!)

So, if I match with a cute boy and we talk on an app for weeks, I will go overboard between the ears.

I’m not talking just the basic girl B.S. 

Like –– “What would my first name sound like with his last name?” or “Would we make cute looking kids or totally awkward looking kids?” (Boys if you’re still listening –– yes, most girls do this whether they admit to it or not.)

I will imagine what their voice sounds like, why they love their hobbies, if they like their job, and if he’s the kind of guy who will put me on his shoulders at a country concert or more of a ditch our friends and smooch in the back guy. 

I will imagine all these little details to such an extent that I will have made up a complete person in my head. 

Problem is, that person does not exist. He’s as fictional as Noah in “The Notebook” or Aladdin, in well, “Aladdin.”

I’ll meet the real person and spend the whole time unfairly looking for glimpses of the imaginary guy I fell for who this other guy just looks like.

If I haven’t been able to get a grip on my imagination by this point in life, I doubt it will ever happen so my antidote was to only allow myself to message a guy for one or two evenings to see if there were any Ted Bundy vibes and then to make plans to meet later that week. The fewer messages between then and the actual date, the better. 

If plans weren’t happening, I’d politely curtsey my way out of the convo. 

No one needs a stranger for pen pal. 

Reason #2:

I’m really good at marketing. 

I was in the marketing department for a company for years and it was my job to create parties that would look good online and in magazines.

Of course the parties were well-done and the people who attended had a good time, but what people saw on Instagram that was captured right at golden hour, by a professional film crew, and with the most lively and color-coordinated in attendance… was not really what it was like to be at the party. 

It didn’t show the line at the bar a real guest had to wait in. That they were annoyed there was dairy in the appetizer. Or that another guest spilled a specialty cocktail and it splattered all over their new suede shoes.

This trend got blended into my personal life. Guys consistently have fallen for who I am on social media. Not for me. 

On my feed, I am fun, independent, glass half-full, colorful, spontaneous, and could make friends with a stick. 

It’s not that I’m not my Instagram. It’s that whoever swipes right will get all that… and a whole lot more.

I’m mean when I’m hungry, honest to a fault, a really picky eater (like a reallyyy picky eater), an over-thinker, particular about almost everything (like even my water –– sparkling or Evian but probably sparkling, if you were wondering) and run on the anxious side.

I once dated a guy who was so blinded by the online version of me that I forever made a rule afterwards that no one I was interested in in the future could follow me on social media until we had gone on 4 dates or more. I figured 8 hours was long enough for them to see me me. 

If they were interested in the sans filter version, then they could see my marketing.

What I found with this antidote was that it was SO MUCH more fun to tell each other about our day blindly than to have the other person tell you about about your day because they had already seen it all on your Instagram Story.

Pre-2020 apocalypse, I started to just straight up ask guys if would be okay if we didn’t friend each other on any online platforms until further notice. I was worried they were going to think I was weird (well, I am) or that it would throw up a red flag.

But you know what? Not one wasn’t completely refreshed by being invited to tell me who they were instead it being pre-determined by dumb photos they posted in college or at a bachelor party in 2016.

I’m a hopeless-romantic to the core. I want the most old school magic option always.

So it was a bit to my dismay when I found myself thinking the other day –– What’s more swoon-y than telling your grandkids about the time you and their grandpa beat all the odds and met in the middle of a pandemic?

“The country had been shut down for months. I had never felt more lonely or more hopeless about meeting someone. I hardly left my house and when I did, my face was all covered up with a mask. How can you meet someone when the bars are closed and there are no birthday parties or weddings or cute strangers you could meet on the airplane and end up talking to for hours. How was I supposed to meet someone? But your grandad and I’s paths crossed because of this old thing called Bumble and despite all the crazy things that were happening, we clicked. And here you are!”

Nothing is more fairytale than that. 

Boy meets girl and they get a taste of happily ever after despite everything working against them. Sleeping Beauty. Snow White. The Little Mermaid. Shoot even Wall-E! That’s literally the plot of all of them! 

Walt? Add to the list all the people who have met their person like this especially during this bizarro year.

It’s been years since I’ve downloaded a dating app. But purely for the sake of keeping up my hopeless romantic reputation, I might just have to.