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My brow furrows in confusion. She fidgets with the little piece of paper, folding the rectangle in a dozen sharp creases back and forth until it forms a tiny accordion. I can’t figure out the weird anxiety I feel rolling off of her until it suddenly dawns on me exactly the favor she’s trying to ask.
“Me? Beta test your app? No, no way, Josie, I can’t.”
“Yes you can, it’s easy,” she counters, “Just fill out the survey, wait for a match, and go on one measly date.”
“That last part is kind of the issue, Jo,” I remind her, “I don’t do dating. If I did, you know I would in a heartbeat. Maybe in another ten years or so I’ll actually be ready.”
“I’m not asking you to marry somebody, it’s just one date,” she protests.
The way MysteryMatch works is unique. Basically Josie spent over a year compiling this incredibly detailed and intricate questionnaire that users fill out when they sign up. Then, it uses some custom algorithm to match you up with the most compatible person.
It’s not just about pairing together people who put down all the same answers, either. Josie had tried to explain exactly how it works to me, but the majority if it just went over my head.
But it doesn’t stop there. Once it matches you with the most compatible person, it sends each of you a little survey with a selection of five local restaurants that Josie partnered with, and you and your match each select three. Inevitably, this means the two of you will agree on at least one, and if there’s a tie, it sends a second survey to break it. Once the restaurant is selected and a time and date is approved by both parties, it sets a reservation and you get a photo and name for your match.
The premise, essentially, is much like that of a blind date, only you aren’t being set up with some son of your mom’s friend or your friend’s boyfriend’s cousin who “you’re just gonna love!” You’re being carefully matched using years of study and careful research with someone who’s genuinely interested in a relationship.
The concept is great, and Josie’s taken a number of careful steps to ensure that it remains safe. For one thing, it’s a paid service, which by itself eliminates a number of issues. For another, Josie’s got a system in place with the partnered locations wherein the staff is made aware of the setup and can monitor for any weirdness.
As far as I can tell, she’s thought of everything. When she’d first come to me and told me about the idea, I thought she was crazy. It seemed like an open door for any lunatic to cause chaos, but she’d managed to come up with ideas and solutions for any concern I could come up with.
But even with her safety precautions in place, I just don’t think I can do it. I shake my head again. “I’m sorry, Josie, but-”
“The worst that could happen is a wasted evening, Sofia, please?” Josie wheedles.
My throat tightens. “You and I both know that’s not the worst that could happen,” I counter, the words coming out more sharply than I intend them to.
The words instantly sober her, and her expression shifts from pleading to sympathetic. We’ve been friends since we were paired up as roommates our freshman year of college, she knows my history and knows exactly how badly a single date can go wrong. “I’m sorry, Sof, you’re right, that was insensitive. But you know what I mean, I’ve put as many precautions in place as possible to keep things from going south.”
I sigh. I know she’s gone to great lengths to make the app as safe as humanly possible, but even so…
“He’s still in jail,” Josie reminds me quietly, “There’s no way he could possibly-”
“I’m not worried about Lance,” I interrupt her, “I know he’s gone. But he’s not the only creep out there.”
“That’s true, but what are the chances of you picking up a second stalker?” she asks.
“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Justin Bieber, hasn’t he had to deal with like a dozen of them?”
“Okay, well when you become an international pop sensation, then I can see being worried, but the average person doesn’t typically have that issue,” she replies drily.
I smile a little in spite of myself. “Okay, fair point.”
About five years ago, I’d been actively on the dating scene. I’d recently gotten dumped after a two-year relationship, and I wasn’t looking for anything serious. Which is why I’d laughed when Lance Bennett told me on our first date that he’d fallen in love with me in the four days I’d been texting back and forth with him and he was positive we were soulmates.
I was under the impression that I had been pretty clear about my intentions from the beginning; I was looking to meet people and get back out there, but I wasn’t looking for a commitment. But when I reminded Lance of that, his response had been: “Well, sometimes you find something even when you aren’t looking for it.”
He seemed to be under some sort of deluded impression that this was some fairytale, love-at-first-sight scene, and no matter how hard I tried to correct him, he kept pushing.
Honestly, it was creepy as hell, and I was desperately trying to think of a way to leave when he got up to use the bathroom. I’d taken it as my escape, tossing some cash down on the table and fleeing the place like my ass was on fire.
I went home and blocked him, deleting his number and planning to forget that I’d ever crossed paths with the nutjob…if only it had been that easy.
After that night, Lance had stalked me continuously for nearly six months. I’d complained, filed harassment charges, gotten a restraining order, but the weasel just kept getting away with shit, eluding the police until one night he broke into my apartment and snuck into my bed.
I’d managed to get away with my cell phone, locking myself in the closet and calling the cops, and they’d nailed him. It turned out he was abusing some pretty serious drugs, although in a sad way, that actually worked out in my favor. He got more time behind bars for the powder in his pocket than he did for the stalking.
But regardless, the experience had definitely soured me on the dating scene. I’ve been on exactly one date since then, which ended in me having such a severe panic attack that I actually had to talk the guy I was seeing out of calling an ambulance for me.
Instead, I’d let him call Josie to come pick me up, and on the car ride home with her, had sworn that I was done with dating for good. And for five years, I’ve stood by that.
