Image credits: Arjun Raj
Friday morning. You take the day off, you are home, and you are alone. You don't want company because your introverted self craves alone time. You watch episode after episode of that awesome TV show everyone's talking about. You laugh, you cry, you feel for Ms. Patriot, the strong female FBI agent, who has to sacrifice her love life for the sake of her great country.
Friday afternoon. Ms. Patriot is starting to get on your nerves. Maybe it's time for Ms. Patriot to stop confusing between Indians and Arabs. Maybe it's time for Ms. Patriot to put that gun on her own f*cking head and pull the damn trigger because one more minute of this godawful TV show, and you might want to jump from the balcony of your apartment. So you close Netflix and search for your phone. It's not too far away, it's right beside you because let's face it, you live on that thing.
You wonder what's wrong with the world because you think you are an intellectual who deserves better.
You open the first of many dating apps on your phone, because as much as you love your me-time, you don't want to end up like Ms. Patriot. So you start to scroll. Scroll and tap, tap and scroll. You scroll through the abs and the six packs and the family packs and the man boobs. You scroll through the liars, the fakes, the spammers, the desperate, the curious.
No, you are not his 'dear'. You ignore and you scroll.
"Wat r u lukin 4?"
"The rest of the letters in the f*cking alphabet."
You wonder what's wrong with the world because you think you are an intellectual who deserves better. Why can't everyone just rise up to your level and use all the letters in the goddamn alphabet? So they deserve to be talked to that way. Because they are not human beings. They are just pictures on your phone. So naturally, you scroll.
"What are you looking for?"
He used all the letters. But a look at his profile and you realize this is not the man who will co-father your future children that you might or might not abandon. So you say:
"I'm looking for my son Nemo. Have you seen him?"
If he gets that reference you might give him a chance, if not, he's just a picture on your phone.
Well, you did give him a chance. So you scroll.
You found him. Your prince charming. He's tall. He's handsome. He's wearing that shirt that's just tight enough to show off what's underneath.
No, not a new message. It's the sound of your brain jumping from your head to your penis. Because you found him. Your prince charming. He's tall. He's handsome. He's wearing that shirt that's just tight enough to show off what's underneath. His picture is clearly cropped from a group photo because he has friends and he's sociable as f*ck, even though you hate people and secretly want the world to end. And he has that Pablo Neruda quote you think is intellectual as f*ck. He's the one. So you tap and you say:
And you wait. You think maybe you should have said something else. Something witty. Who says, "Hey there"? What does that even mean? Maybe you should change your display picture before he gets a chance to read your message because you look like a pigeon crapped on your face. Maybe you should lie about your weight in the profile. No, wait, it's your height. Why are you so f*cking tall? Did your brain fail to realize you hit 21 and never stopped to vertically expand you? You should change it. You should...
It's him! It's the future apple of your eye.
You know there's a clear pic of your beautifully pathetic self in your profile but you are not going to say that to him because he's not like the other guys. He's hot and he quotes Pablo Neruda. So you panic and you search through three years of selfies, from the moment you got a camera phone. That one's good but it's old. That one's new but you thought it was funny to intentionally look ugly even though you know you don't need to make any effort in that department. After contemplating all the stupid decisions you've ever made in your life, you find that one picture. That picture, in which, god knows how you are so f*ckable!
Wait... But he was the one! Your future children you already ran away from, are orphaned. You are going to die alone. Maybe if you got your ass out of your apartment, got out and met people who didn't live in your phone...
You are going to die alone. Maybe if you got your ass out of your apartment, got out and met people who didn't live in your phone...
That's not from your dating app. It's from Netflix, a new season of Daredevil is out. Who needs a life anyway?
So you stop scrolling and just... Netflix.
A version of this story was first published on millennialintrovert.com.
Also see on HuffPost: