The Blind Date Landish, Lauren (read a book TXT) 📖

notions. Someone serious enough to share their true self with me but fun enough to enjoy the gift of the 86,400 seconds we get each day.

Wow. That’s both profound and exciting. She’s not who I expected to find on the app, and definitely not who I expected the AI to match me with. She seems bright and witty, brave and altruistic.

But I didn’t come here for this. I’m only doing research to improve the app, not actually date anyone. With a resigned sigh, I click back into her message, pasting my thanks-but-no-thanks message. I pause, my finger over the Send button.

You don’t have time for this, Noah. Eye on the prize. BlindDate. Making it better.

I imagine walking into Elisa’s office next month with better numbers, higher usages, and improved stats. And I click Send.

A moment later, a green dot appears beside her name. Rachel is on the app right now, likely reading my message. A knot forms in my stomach, and I stare at the screen, wondering if she’ll message back.

R: Was it the snoring? It was the snoring, wasn’t it? I thought that might be TMI for a first contact. LOL No worries, Mark. Have a great day filled with sunshine and awesome-sauce. I hope you find your perfect match.

The knot tightens, my brows knitting together. Why is her agreement with my dismissal so . . . ? Ugh. I don’t even know how to describe what I’m feeling, I just know I don’t like it. I stare at the words ‘perfect match’ through narrowed eyes.

Ninety-six percent is ridiculously high. What if the AI got it right? I could be passing over my soulmate. Not that I believe in those, but I don’t necessarily not believe, either. I haven’t given it much thought one way or the other because I’ve been too busy chasing goals and dreams of my own, with FriendZone and now BlindDate.

But meeting Rachel might be a good thing. If she is my perfect match, all the work of weeding out has been done for me by the AI and I can go into the relationship with some hint of success. If she’s not my perfect match and the AI messed up, I need to know that to improve BlindDate. It’s a win-win.

Before I can second-guess myself again, I type out another message.

Me: Is it too late to change my mind? Got a little overwhelmed with responses this morning and I think the 96% got to me. I’m sorry. Can we start over?

I hit Send before I can tweak and rewrite the message. It’s the truth, as ugly as it might be and as weak as it paints me.

R: Truthfully, I was terrified of sending that message last night. I almost threw up my wine, cheese, and chocolate dinner. I don’t know if that menu makes me sound fancy or pitiful, but at least I kept it down because I was so busy yesterday, it was all I ate. Anyway, we can absolutely try again. And no pressure on the 96% unless you snore. That’s a deal-breaker for me. Only one diesel-powered chainsaw allowed in my bed at a time. PS—how many responses did you get?

I laugh. Out of my flip-flopping back and forth like a fish out of water, which might be a little too close to home considering my lack of a dating life, my overwhelming response is what she keys on to?

Me: Thirty-two! Unless you count the one that was looking for fans for her private page. If so, thirty-one. Are you competitive? Want to compare numbers?

R: Dangerous question, mister. <wink emoji> You win. I only had nineteen messages, but at least three of them were guys offering to be my sugar daddy and buy me clothes and cars. So maybe that’s worth something in the comparison? LOL

She makes me laugh again, something I rarely do but have done at least three times this morning from her words on my phone screen. I do not like the idea of men messaging offers to be sugar daddies on BlindDate. That’s not what it’s for, but it’s not against the terms of service and might be exactly what someone is looking for. Still, I make a note to check into that along with the other things I’ve written down for review.

Me: I’ll let you have that win. So, what brought you to BlindDate?

R: Honestly? My friend talked me into it because I’d like to find someone who’s interested in more than surface things. That’s really appealing to me. What about you?

I feel like that might be code for ‘I have a great personality but look like I was hit with the ugly stick a few too many times,’ and a shock of nerves worms through me. But this is exactly why River and I made BlindDate, so people could get to know each other and then meet without letting appearances be the sum total of the first impression. Maybe Rachel’s sense of humor will make her seem like a ten even if she’s more of a six? That’s the theory I sold Elisa, and I do believe it. It’s just interesting to test my dedication to the idea on myself.

M: Well, I guess the same things. I mean, we probably should start with some of the superficial things, of course, but I’m looking for more than that.

I wait nervously, surprised at that. But she quickly replies.

R: Superficial stuff? Okay, I’ll go first . . .

I wait for her to ask for a physical description as the three tiny dots appear, but what comes across is different from what I expect. Which is already an ‘as usual’ situation with Rachel.

R: Are you married? Kids? Not a deal-breaker. Well, the kids aren’t unless you’re a deadbeat dad. But being married is a ‘no-go, do not pass go, do not collect $200, go straight to jail and stew in your affair’ situation.

Me: Tell me how you really feel. LOL, no kids, not married, now or ever. You?

Oh, fuck. I typed LOL back. She’s already