Chapter 5
“I can’t believe you waited almost twenty-four hours to start swiping on this app,” Nina stated in awe. “I would’ve started swiping the moment I created an account.”
“This is stressful. I needed wine, popcorn, and moral support.”
She laughed, folding her leg underneath her on the couch. “But weren’t you curious?”
“Of course, but I felt like I needed an old pro by my side as I ventured into this. So, I spent the day cleaning, and now here we are.”
She put her hand to her chest, feigning shock. “Did you call me an old pro? As in a professional?” She leaned forward. “Did you just call me a ho?”
I snickered. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it! I just mean that you’ve been in these dating streets for a while, and you know the lay of the land. You could give me some pointers and help me get the hang of things.”
“I mean, you’re not wrong. I’ve been in the streets my entire adult life.” With a smile, she closed her eyes. “These are my streets now.”
“You are a problem,” I cackled.
“For them, yes.” She nodded. “I’ll own that.”
After a brief overview and the directive to swipe left to say no and swipe right to say yes, I was ready to begin. After a refill of wine, I started swiping through my app with Nina’s guidance. We made a game of it, discussing each profile that came up.
“There’s no way the type of man I’m looking for is on this app,” I speculated. “I want someone who gets me, not someone who is out to get me.”
Nina choked on her wine and coughed through a chuckle. “Liyah, please!”
“I’m serious!” I giggled.
“Just keep swiping and be for real.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped.
“What?”
I sat up and cleared my throat. ‘I don’t mean no harm, but women on this app are just looking for someone to spend money on them, and that ain’t me,’ I read with a deep voice, trying not to laugh. ‘I make my own money. I got my own everything. I provide for me and mines. What do you bring to the table? What do you have to offer besides what’s between your legs? If you’re not a gold digger, swipe right.’
She groaned from the other end of the couch. “I hate it when I come across profiles like that—and you’ll come across quite a few of them. This mindset is wild, and this approach is just so… just so negative! Does it say what he does for a living?”
I showed her my phone. “Of course not.”
“And on top of that, he’s not cute on the inside or the outside. That’s a no.” Pulling out her phone, she opened the TenderFish app. “On to the next one.”
“Amen,” I agreed, swiping left.
And then I kept swiping left.
“Well, hold on,” Nina demanded, putting her hand on my forearm. “Slow down! You’re swiping left so fast, you’re not even savoring the experience.”
I pointed at her phone. “I’m swiping just as fast as you are!”
“Yes, but I’ve been on apps before. This is month two of me being on this one in particular, and I know the drill.” She gave me a look. “You are on it for the first time. Take your time. Experience all of its wonder.”
“‘George, thirty-six, twenty-two miles away. No fat chicks,’” I read aloud. ‘I don’t mean to be mean, but I like what I like. So, if you’re big and fat, do not bother. I’m looking for someone fit—preferably between one hundred and fifteen pounds and one hundred and thirty-five pounds. If you’re fat anywhere besides your ass, do not swipe on me. We will not match. I don’t need that unhealthy, lazy energy in my life. Good vibes only.’ I gave her a look. “Is this what you want me to savor? Because I would’ve swiped no on the picture alone, but the bio really solidified the no. And I could’ve done without this.”
“The thing about dating while fat on an app is that you’ll be minding your business and then—boom—you catch a stray for no reason.” She shook her head. “You’ll see profiles of men that are blatantly fatphobic, and then you’ll see the ones that fetishize us,” she explained. “The goal is to find the men who see us as normal people.”
“Soooooooo, it’s basically just like real-life dating?” I joked. “It looks like people are just being bold about their bullshit online.” I sighed. “The beauty of being an internet gangster, I guess.”
“And let’s be honest, we know that George wouldn’t have had a chance with either of us on his best day.”
“Amen to that. But my issue isn’t even just the fact that he doesn’t like fat women. I mean, he probably couldn’t handle all this anyway. My issue is that he spent his whole bio shitting on us instead of just highlighting who he wanted. Same with the guy who claimed to not want a gold digger. Why not just highlight what you want instead of talking shit about what you don’t? I just don’t understand.”
“Because people suck.” She held up the phone so I could see the man on her screen. “Men in particular.”
I squinted my eyes. “What is he wearing?”
“A shirt that says NO FATTIES and a pair of cutoff shorts that don’t fit well.”
My lip curled in disgust. “Jean shorts? He has the nerve to say no fatties and he’s wearing cutoff denim shorts?”
Nina’s head fell back against the couch and she laughed. “Exactly!”
“But my thing is this—if you can’t connect with or talk to anyone unless you mutually match, what is even the point of writing all that hate? I just don’t get it.”
“The world may never know.”
With a shake of the head, I went back to my swiping.
“Jesus,” I groaned, shaking my head.
“What’s up?” Nina responded.
“No Blacks,” I read before turning the phone toward her. “That’s it. That’s his only requirement.”
“Wait… he said that?” The confusion on her face matched mine when I read it.
With pursed lips, I gave her a look. “Mm-hmm.”
“Wow.” She shook her head. “That’s… problematic. And look”—she held up her phone—“this profile has more trash-ass energy.”
I squinted my eyes. ‘I’m down with the swirl and looking for some chocolate. Big booties to the front of the line,’ I read the profile with a frown. “No. No, he didn’t.”
“Yes, he did. Audacity must be on sale somewhere.”
“These can’t be the men God sent down here for us to procreate with.”
“Keep that procreating energy over there, bitch!” Nina squealed, dropping her phone on the couch and covering her pelvis with her hands. “The last thing I want is to get pregnant.”
I giggled. “I know. And looking at these options, I’m questioning my future as a mother.”
As I went through my options, there were a few people I was willing to take a chance on, and then I went on a left-swipe streak. Just when I was about to swipe no on the eleventh man in a row, my finger stopped in midair.
“Oh, hello,” I murmured, taking a long look at each of his pictures.
“What do you see?”
“His name is Donte.” I showed her the picture. “He’s a thirty-three-year-old physical therapist. He has no kids. He likes to sing. And he’s looking to date and see where things go.”
She pushed her box braids over her shoulder as she leaned forward to inspect my phone. Nodding, she sat back. “That’s a good pick. Swipe on him.”
I swiped.
“It’s a match!” I exclaimed.
Nina pumped her fist in the air. “Yes!”
“This is the first match I’ve actually been excited about. The others could be cool, too. But Donte feels promising.”
She grinned. “I told you it could be fun. Sometimes it’s annoying as hell. But sometimes, it’s fun.”
“You did say that.”
“It’s funny how your best friend can try to convince you to join a dating app for the last three years, and it takes a random bartender one conversation to convince you to take the leap.”
“It wasn’t like that. It was the whole situation. Being stood up. Hearing my mom’s and uncle’s voices in my head. Being ready to find my person. Realizing that you were right about me being in my own way. Having Ahmad give me shit. It was—”
“Who is Ahmad?”
“The bartender.”
She turned her entire body and smirked. “The way you said his name makes me think that maybe there’s more to the asshole-turned-cool-bartender story.”
I scrunched my nose. “I’m saying his name the way it’s pronounced. You are reaching!”
“Am I?”
“You always read too much into things,” I told her with a laugh. “There’s no more to the story. He was being an asshole because he said I had an attitude. When I broke down and told him what was going on, he told me that I wasn’t approachable or friendly.”
“Damn! My man didn’t sugarcoat anything, did he?”
“He really didn’t. But something about his realness just struck a nerve. So…” I shrugged. “He said he would look out for me if I did the first date at Onyx, so that’s where I’m going to meet the guys I hit it off with.”
“That’s really cool of him.”
“It was. I was surprised. Because the way he kept trying to embarrass me about being stood up, I thought I was going to have to fight him.”
Nina burst out laughing. “Maybe he wasn’t taking shots at you. Maybe he was shooting his shot.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s married, and he was definitely not shooting his shot.” I thought back to our interaction and frowned. “I think he might’ve felt bad for me.” I put my phone down. “Did that man pity me?”
“No.” Shaking her head, she waved her hand wildly. “Don’t even go there.”
I started to feel a weird mixture of embarrassment, indignation, and defeat. “I don’t want someone pitying me. I don’t want him or anyone else to feel like I can’t find a man.”
“Then swipe on men, and let’s get these dates going!” She picked up my phone from my lap and handed it to me. “And for the record, it sounds like he was just looking out. Even if he felt a little bad because you got stood up, it could’ve been like how I felt bad you got stood up. You know damn well I don’t pity you.”
I nodded slowly. “That’s true.”
I was quiet for a moment.
I knew that recognizing that someone else was going through a tough time didn’t always equate to pity. But whenever I was the recipient of the sad eyes and embarrassed look, it made me feel a way. Although it was irrational, the idea of someone pitying me made me feel like they were implying I’m inferior in some way.
“So, maybe you two got off on the wrong foot and he’s actually a good guy,” Nina offered with a shrug. “Bartenders are like therapists. They listen to people’s problems all the time and then provide solutions.”
“Well, he offered something, but I don’t know if this is a solution.” I held up my phone, showing her a man’s bare torso. ‘I am married and looking for something discreet,’ I read before pursing my lips. “If this is a solution, I don’t want it.”
“Okay, real talk—there’s some duds on there. But do you remember that guy I hooked up with around Christmas?”
“Oh yeah…” I nodded, recalling who she was referring to. “I remember that asshole.”
“I met him at work, not on a dating site, and he lied about being single.”
“I’m just glad he posted that Christmas pajama photo with his family, and you were able to find out the truth.”
“Me, too, girl. Me, too. But my point is that if a man is going to cheat and lie and be a hot mess, he’s going to do it regardless of if he’s online or in person. So just swipe no and focus on the good ones that pop up. Honestly, online dating is a marathon, not a race. You’ll have to weed through a lot of bullshit. But when you find what you’re looking for, it’s like you’ve struck gold.”
I smiled at her. “Deep down, I think you’re a romantic.”
She frowned. “Ew, no. Romance is dead. I just want a handful of steady, reliable men to spend my time with.”
I snickered. “I don’t know, Nina. You’ve been saying this for years, but what are you going to do when you meet a man who brings all the things to the table?”
“In my thirty years of life, I’ve never come across one man who has all the things I’m looking for. So, I’m content rotating a few of them in and out to get my needs met. You’re the one obsessed with finding the one. I want to find the ones.”
We both laughed and went back to our phones.
“I can’t believe you’re spending your Saturday night inside instead of going out into the world,” Nina said fifteen minutes later. “You know you could come out with me.”
“I don’t want to be a third wheel. And honestly, after last night’s waste of an outfit, I think I just want to chill, watch a movie, and go to bed early,” I explained.
“You can’t let getting stood up shake your confidence. You need to make sure you secure a date for Friday night.” She leaned over and looked at my phone. “You already have ten matches, and we really just got started. So keep swiping, and by the end of the weekend, you’ll triple that. Depending on how picky you are, you may have fifty good matches to sort through. And talk to them all. Weed out and unmatch the ones that won’t work, and then you’ll have a solid handful to date.”
“So out of fifty, I’ll only have a handful of viable candidates?”
“Oh, honey…” She gave me an exaggerated pout as she reached over and patted my thigh. “You’d be lucky to find a handful that you actually want to meet.”
My jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”
“You’ll see.” She winked before standing up. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I need to get ready for my date.”
“Okay, have a good time!” I rose to my feet and walked her to the door.
“I plan to.” She gave me a hug and then pointed to my phone. “You have fun, too.”
“I’ll try.”
We said our goodbyes, and then I plopped back down on the couch and continued browsing the single men of Richland and the surrounding areas. At some point, I’d stopped and got sucked into the movie I’d started. And the next thing I knew, I was asleep.
When I woke up at eight o’clock in the morning, my phone had died, and the bowl of popcorn had been knocked onto my freshly cleaned floors.
“Great,” I grumbled as I dropped to my knees and picked up all the kernels.
I washed the dishes, vacuumed the crumbs, and then connected my phone to the charger. Instead of a shower, I decided I wanted a long, hot bubble bath, and I just soaked in the lavender-scented water.
I was in need of a yacht talk with my sister. She would’ve found a way to get the family off my back. She would’ve encouraged the online dating shenanigans. She would’ve been completely supportive of whatever it was that I wanted to do with my life. We would’ve been on the boat, talking everything out, and by the time we got back to shore, all of life’s problems would’ve disappeared. I sighed.
I missed Aniyah deeply.
She felt like she could have it all. She felt like I could have it all—even if it didn’t look like hers. We would’ve gone out on the boat and—
I stopped midthought.
Sloshing water, I sat up abruptly. It was almost as if my sister sent a message from heaven. Unless I made some moves, I was no closer to having a boyfriend or having the yacht.
And I have seven weeks to change that.
Motivated, I climbed out of the tub with a renewed determination.
“I should take myself out for brunch,” I whispered as I dried off.
I mentally went over the list of restaurants that I wanted to try as I moisturized. And by the time I slipped into a cute pair of high-waisted floral pants and a pink top, I knew exactly where I was going.
I powered on my fully charged phone, and it started ringing instantly.
“Hello?”
“Do you want to meet me at Collective Kitchen?” Nina asked.
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed. “I just got dressed to go there!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“I already know what I’m going to wear so let me get ready!”
“Yes! Okay, I’m going to finish my hair, and then I’ll be on the way.”
We squealed excitedly before deciding to meet there in forty-five minutes.
When I arrived at the popular brunch spot, it was packed. I was glad I decided to get there early. I made my way to the front so I could put our name on the list, and then I found a spot on the bench near the door.
I pulled out my phone to send Nina a text to let her know we were looking at a twenty-five-minute wait. After sending it, I noticed the notifications on the TenderFish app icon. My eyebrows flew up as I clicked on it and saw the number of messages I had.
Whoa.
My eyes breezed over the many “hey, beautiful” and “good morning, queen” messages and landed on the message from Donte.
Donte:Hello, Aaliyah. How are you doing this beautiful Sunday morning?
Aaliyah:I’m doing quite well. How are you, Donte?
Donte:I’m great now that I’m talking to you. What are you up to today?
Aaliyah:I’m getting brunch with one of my best friends, and then who knows. What about you? What are you up to?
Donte:Right now, I’m waiting for my bacon to finish cooking. I woke up, went to the gym, showered, and now I’m making breakfast.
Aaliyah:So, you can cook?
Donte:I can do a little something. If things go well, maybe I can show you what I can do. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself. What do you do?
Aaliyah:I’m a computer programmer. What do you do? And do you like it?
Donte:I’m in marketing. I like what I do, but if I could do something else, I would.
Aaliyah:Why can’t you?
Donte:I make a good salary, and the benefits are better than most companies. It’s a risk I’m not willing to take right now.
Aaliyah:I get that. At least you like your job, though. Even if you don’t love it and you would do something else, at the very least you like it and you’re being paid well.
Donte:Exactly. But a risk I am willing to take is getting to know you better, if you’ll let me.
Aaliyah:I would like that.
For the next twenty-five minutes, I sat outside grinning at my phone. When the waitress called me in, I didn’t even realize how much time had gone by. I was seated in the booth and handed menus.
“You want me to give you a few minutes?” the waitress asked, gesturing to the empty seat across from me.
I nodded. “Yes, please.” I checked my phone. “She’s five minutes away. But I do want to place an order for two waters and two mimosas.”
The waitress nodded and smiled. “I’ll be right back.”
Aaliyah:I just got seated at the restaurant, waiting on my friend to get here.
Donte:Somebody has you waiting? That’s unacceptable. When we meet, I’m going to make sure you’re not waiting.
Aaliyah:If that was your way of asking me out, that was smooth.
Donte:Good, because that’s all the game I got! I would love to meet you in person and see if we click.
Aaliyah:Would you like to meet for drinks on Friday at Onyx Bar? It’s downtown.
Donte:Yeah, that’s cool. I never heard of it, but I’ll look it up.
Aaliyah:My friend just walked in the door. If you’re free later, I can message you.
Donte:I’m relaxing today, so definitely hit me up.
Aaliyah:I sure will.
“What’s all this about?” Nina questioned as she slid in the booth. “I know it’s a man. Who is he?”
“Who is who?” I returned, placing my phone down.
She eyed me and held up one manicured finger. “One, you’re smiling so hard; I can see your molars.” She held up a second finger. “And two, I know for a fact that you put on your best outfits when you’re trying to make yourself feel better.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to read me. “So this could go either way.”
I snickered because she wasn’t wrong. “I was talking to Donte, and so far, I like him!”
“Good!”
I wiggled my eyebrows. “Hopefully, he’ll give me reason to delete this app!”
Nina’s expression was skeptical. “I hope so. But just in case, make sure you’re talking to other people, too. Men start off promising and then—boom—trash.”
I cackled. “Well, that was uplifting.”
She pointed at me. “That’s the truth.”
Cocking my head to the side, I eyed her. The only reason I didn’t say anything immediately was because the waitress brought our drinks. When she walked away, I leaned forward.
“Is everything okay? Did something happen last night?” I wondered.
“I was out with The Romantic One last night. Everything was cool, and guess who strolled up?”
My eyes widened. “Who?”
“The married man.”
“No!”
“We talked him up!”
“What happened?”
“Let’s order first, and then I’ll tell you.”
When the waitress came back, we ordered, and then I clasped my hands in front of me and was ready to listen.
“Before I begin,” Nina started, grabbing her mimosa glass, “let’s toast.”
I picked mine up and held it in the air. “What are we toasting?”
“To the wild ride that is dating.”
I smiled, clinking my glass against hers. “Wild ride?”
She winked. “Buckle up.”