Page 6 of Left on Read
“Yeah, what are you, Forty? Forty-five now?” I teased, knowing full well that Knox was only thirty-two. He was sensitive about his age, so of course we teased him about it.
“I hate all of you.” He went back to scrolling on his phone.
“No you don’t,” Nick sign-songed and sat on the bench, his nose buried in my phone. “C’mere. I think I got what I need.”
“Was any of that useful, or were you trolling me?” I plopped down on the bench next to him as he scrolled through the photos he’d taken.
“Two things can be true.” He shot me an impish grin.
“Brat.” I poked him in the thigh.
“You know it. Can I change some of your info?”
“Sure. Like what?”
“The basics are fine, but this is just to find you-know-what, right? You’re not looking for a date at the same time?”
“Nope, just need the tools. I’m taking a break from online dating.”
“Really?” He shot me a surprised look.
“Yeah.” I leaned back against the wall and looked over his shoulder as he uploaded a few of the photos. They weren’t as silly as I thought. I looked like I was poking fun at myself and not like I was trying to lure women into my white van with the promise of cash for tools.
“What do you think?” He tilted the phone toward me. “Thought this might work for your bio.”
“Got tools you don’t use?” I read. “Swipe right to get them taken off your hands. Fair prices and public meetings are my jam.”
“We can tinker with it later, but I figured that’s a good starting point. A little more playful and a lot less Dateline, if you ask me.”
“Agreed.”
“And my final idea. What do you think about opening your profile to men too?”
“Men?”
“Yeah. Think about it. Sure, women might have some tools to sell you, but so could a guy. And as a queer man with a ton of female presenting friends who date men, you’re more likely to get a guy to answer you. Even with silly pics and pure intentions, this kind of thing would raise a lot of red flags for the women I know. I’ve heard of guys borrowing screwdrivers from guys nearby on Grindr. This kind of thing won’t ruffle dude feathers the way it’ll make a woman’s danger alarm go off.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Switch it to both.”
Nick fiddled with my phone for a moment, then handed it to me. “All good?”
I looked over the changes. The profile would make me pause if it came over my screen. It was worlds better than my stupid attempt. “All good.”
“Awesome. Now, tell me why you’re quitting online dating.”
“I’m just over it.” I shrugged and tucked my phone in the pocket of the jeans I was still wearing. “It’s just the same empty conversations and people not doing what they say they will.”
“It gets frustrating.”
“So frustrating.” I sighed dramatically. “It’s like if you don’t strike lightning in five minutes, people move on and forget about you. And I get it. We’re all busy and broke, and we never get a chance to just stop and breathe, but I don’t understand why people don’t want to get to know each other anymore. It’s like we skip the part where we talk and see if we’re compatible. It’s all about fucking and maybe seeing if we click as people later.”
Nick didn’t say anything. He just pressed his knee against mine and gave me room to speak.
That was one of Nick’s talents. He had a sixth sense for knowing when people needed to vent, and when they wanted to have a conversation or get advice. Not many people let me vent—or say anything at all—when I wasn’t in happy River mode.
“Like the last girl I was talking to. I thought we hit it off. She was funny and sweet and asked real questions. Actually seemed to want to get to know me beyond what’s my favorite color or how many kids I want, which is a really weird thing to ask someone you’ve only exchanged a handful of messages with. Anyway, I thought we were connecting, you know. But then she messaged me and said she didn’t have time to wait for me to make a move and ask her out. She accused me of leading her on, but I was just trying to figure out if we vibed.”
“How long were you talking?”