“Look what I found,” my husband, Theo, says with a sheepish grin as he slides a red notebook across the kitchen counter.
“What’s that?” Our five-year-old son, Julian, points at the notebook, decorated with firetrucks and glimmering hearts.
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"Can't tell if it's a good omen, or a bad omen, but there's a storm a-brewing." That's how my sister Betsy greeted me the next morning, along with a fresh mug of coffee.
"Well, good morning to you, too."
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I have been on many, many dates, including an abundance of first and only dates. I thought I had experienced most first date repertoires—coffee dates and dinner dates, exciting dates and boring dates, dates to the theater and dates to the comedy club, dates that led to relationships and dates that came to screeching halts midway. I’d been on first dates with sixty dollar steaks and first dates with six dollar burgers. I’d been on first dates with lawyers and professors and police officers and firefighters. I’d even been on first dates with married people, unbeknownst to me, of course.
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I moved to a new city where I knew no one in the fall of 2016. I was twenty-three at the time and had graduated college the year before. Now I was settling in this new place with a new, real adult job. Like many people in many places, I turned to dating apps for entertainment. To make friends, to find dates, to explore the new city. Sometimes it was for a physical connection, but sometimes that was just a bonus if it happened at all. It was more about creating moments of connection, even if they were brief.
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