The First

"So here we are," Alice says as she takes the first sip of her martini.
"Here we are, indeed," replies Sid, the good-looking, confident, and charming New York bachelor. He exudes comfort, as though he's been in this exact same circumstance dozens of times before. And yet, his eye contact makes it clear that Alice has his undivided attention.

A traditionally bright December has given way to a deeply dark January. The swoon of holiday parties, family gatherings, and New Year's Eve has faded into the background. They're all distant memories for Alice. She was happy to receive a text from Sid, a full two weeks after their flirty encounter at the laundromat. She is thrilled to meet him, even more pleased it's happening at a rustic cocktail bar in the West Village. The freezing temperatures and bitter winds outside fade into the background. For now, the warmth is contagious.

"I'm going to overshare."
"Do it."
"I couldn't find you."
"What do you mean, I'm right here?"
She laughs. "No, not like that. I couldn't find you online."
"Oh. Well, that's simple. I'm not online."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not online."
"Everyone's online."
"Not everyone, not me."
"Nothing, really? No Instagram?"
"Nope."
"TikTok?"
"Nope."
"Snapchat?"
"Nope."
"Twitter?"
"Nope."
"Reddit?"
"Nope."
"Chyme? Syncly? Halo?"
"No, and I'm pretty sure you're just saying random things now and pretending they're social media apps."
"Nope, couldn't be me," Alice smiles teasingly. "Surely you must have a Facebook?"
"I surely don't. I had one, but that feels like a lifetime ago."
"Oh my god, how do you survive?!"
"I thrive, actually."

"You have to have a LinkedIn?"
"For what? I'm self-employed."
"Right, as a dating coach, whatever that is." Alice's teasing smile resurfaces. She doesn't really care about Sid's occupation, he could be the city comptroller for all she cares. Not that she has anything against comptrollers either, or even knows what that is. But how can you not make fun of a dating coach for being a dating coach? He chuckles.
"Don't you think it could help with... your business?" she asks.
"I'm not much of a marketer."
"Why not?"

He pauses.

"I like to believe that the best products and services sell themselves, no marketing needed."
"That's very poetic... and incredibly stupid."
He laughs. "Yes, yes, but to be fair, I never said that I wasn't stupid."
"Aww, you poor baby." She lightly touches his shoulder.
"I know, I'm such a lost little puppy," he says, pouting his bottom lip while putting his hand over hers. This sort of face would normally be an instant ick for Alice. But, evidently, not tonight.

"A couple of my friends told me not to come on this date."
"And why is that?"
"They don't trust a guy they can't... verify."
"Verify?"
"A guy they can't stalk online."
"Ah, well, I guess that's a testament to your beauty and courage and beauty."
"I'll drink to that," Alice makes a mock toast.

Witty banter continues as they each move on to a second drink. Alice feels lighter than air. She can't remember the last time a first date had gone this well. The electric atmosphere between them makes her even happier that she came prepared.

"So, what's with the bag?" he asks.

Ah yes, the bag. The bag! For every friend who told her not to go on the date in the first place, there was another who told her not to bring the bag. It's a first date, they said. Your girlfriend is showing, they hollered. Alice wasn't taking any chances—no desperate exit plans, no walks of shame. If she was going home with Sid tonight, she was going in ready. As for whether or not she was going home with Sid tonight, well, that had already been decided.

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm going to stay at a friend's place after this."
"Ahh, yes, of course," he says with a chuckle. Alice sensed a knowing disbelief in his voice.

"Do you have female clients?" asks Alice trying to change the subject, quickly.
"No, not really."
"As a rule or just a coincidence?"
"I've tried that in the past. It doesn't work out well."
"Why not?"
"Well, I'm in the building-up business. My job involves listening, encouraging, empowering, complimenting—etcetera, etcetera—for days, if not weeks, at a time. I'm sure you can imagine what happens to a vulnerable female over time when you do that."
"They fall for you, huh?"
"Every time. They confuse the medicine with the doctor. I love helping people, and I do think that the bigger the world gets, the harder it is to meet that special someone. That fight is hard for both parties, but it's just too complicated. There are... conflicts of interest."

"How are you single?"
"Exsqueeze me?"
"How on God's frozen Earth are you single? You're good-looking—"
"—thank you."
"You're welcome. As I was saying—good-looking, eloquent speaker, well-mannered—"
"—thank you."
"You're welcome. How is it that no one has locked you up yet?"
"Locked me up? A relationship is not a prison, at least from what I've heard."
"Isn't it, though?"

He leans back.

"Well, I guess you're going to find this out soon enough, so I might as well tell you now."
"Tell me what?"
"I don't put out."
"Exsqueeze me, what?"
"Sex. I don't have it."
"You've never had it? You're a virgin?!"
"No. Lady, come on, look at me."
"Okay, we don't need that."
"No, I just wait..."
"For marriage?"
"For love."
"For what?"
"For love. Whatever that means. I want to really care about a person before getting intimate."
"No, you don't!"
"I do!"
"What? But how? Why?"

He takes a deep swig of his tequila. She chugs her entire martini.

"Isn't this a little too deep for the intro?"
"Not deep enough, my friend! I was going to sleep with you tonight!" He spits out his drink. They both can't help but laugh, undecided if it was the alcohol or the company.

"Well, that only leaves just one more question, doesn't it?"
"Only one?"

She smushes her chest together and leans into him.

"Are you in love with me yet?"

And so the game begins.