Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
A minute later, I’m officially Stranger7721, a username the system automatically generated for me.
Apparently, we’re all strangers on here.
Since no pictures are required, I provide my basic stats and a bio.
28/F. Love my job but not much else.
It’s not the most inventive bio, but it works for now.
I spend the next few moments scrolling through the profiles of available men. Because of the ninety-day requirement, there doesn’t seem to be many guys fishing for one-night stands. As impressive as that is, it doesn’t really improve the pool. Most of them have glaringly obvious egos. They’re way too wordy, trying too hard, talking about all their quirks and accomplishments and quoting Stoic philosophers. As someone who takes herself too seriously, the last thing I need is someone who does the same.
But then I find a guy called Stranger88 whose bio simply states: Just here to get laid.
I laugh out loud.
If he wants to do that, this isn’t the app to do it on.
A little green light under his profile says he’s online, which means I can’t not respond.
Stranger7721: Hey dumbass. Nice bio. You know you have to chat with someone for 90 days before you can even see their picture? There are better apps for your purpose.
Shoving a handful of Cheerios in my mouth, I decide to see what’s on Netflix. By the time I grab the remote, he’s already responded.
Stranger88: Hang on. Updating my bio.
I snort. A second later, I refresh his profile and read his new bio which states, Just here to find a meaningful connection that ultimately leads to intercourse.
Stranger7721: Much better.
Stranger88: I believe in honesty. That said, there’s absolutely no way I can get laid at this present moment, so I’ll settle for talking to women on the internet. You’re not a bot, right? Please tell me you’re not a bot.
Stranger7721: Not a bot. Why can’t you get laid?
Stranger88: In the name of brutal honesty, I’m… married.
Stranger7721: Omg! Fuck off.
I’m seconds from blocking him when another message comes through.
Stranger88: You didn’t let me finish! I’m married… to my JOB.
On one hand, I can relate. On the other? An app like this would be the perfect place for a married person to have an anonymous affair, even if it’s only messaging.
Stranger7721: Convenient.
Stranger88: It’s the truth. If I could prove that to you, I would. Ask me something only a non-married person would know.
Maybe it’s the boredom and the fatigue washing over me, but I’m intrigued. And also stumped. It’s an impossible question for someone to answer, let alone for someone to ask. I change the subject.
Stranger7721: You still live in your parents’ basement?
Stranger88: Something like that.
I can’t help picturing a soft-bodied slob who spends all his time doing remote IT work in his parents’ house. Even so, communicating with this dude beats sitting here alone. And at least he’s not putting on airs, trying to be someone he’s not, like all the other people on this lame site. He could easily claim to be some Fortune500 CEO and quote Proust and Poe, and yet he’s not. Have to say it’s refreshing.
Stranger88: How was your day?
I can’t recall the last time anyone asked me that who wasn’t my mom.
Stranger7721: LONG. If we’re being honest here, I’m also married to my job.
Stranger88: Ah. You just want to get laid, too.
Stranger7721: Maybe… ;-) Actually, I just got an invite to a friend’s wedding, and it made me realize I’m the only one of my friends who is still unattached. This ad popped up and the next thing I know, I’m downloading this stupid app and talking to you.
Stranger88: So you’re looking for a wedding date… here?
Stranger7721: I have no idea what I’m looking for. I don’t think you can find anything meaningful on an app.
Stranger88: Sure you can.
Stranger7721: So you’ve convinced other women with your “just want to get laid” schtick before?
Stranger88: No, never. I was talking about Door Dash. I’m eating some damn good Pad Thai right now and I think that’s pretty meaningful.
I laugh out loud and look over at my bowl of dry, stale Cheerios.
Stranger88: Why? Is it working on you? Do you find me charming?
Stranger7721: Too soon to say, sorry. Let me ask you a question. I just signed up today, and I’m 7721. You’re 88. Does that mean you’ve been here a while?
Stranger88: Yes. And I still have no takers.
Stranger7721: Tragic.
Stranger88: I cry about it every night. Right into my pillow.
Stranger7721: Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t sexy though.
Stranger88: Who said anything about feeling sorry for myself? I’m feeling bad for all the women who’re missing out on me. Now that’s a damn tragedy.
I sniff a laugh, rolling my eyes. I like his sense of humor. But this world is full of people who are funny and charismatic online and awkward as hell in person. I can’t get my hopes up.