A Real Story

I’d been on Hinge for about six weeks, mostly matching with guys whose profiles were just gym mirror selfies and a fishing photo, so I got petty and put “two truths and a lie” as a prompt: I once won a regional Scrabble tournament, I’ve never seen Star Wars, I cried at a Six Flags parade. Most people guessed the Star Wars one, which honestly disappointed me. Then a guy named Theo messaged just to say “the Scrabble thing is the lie, nobody who actually plays competitive Scrabble talks about it that casually,” and he was right, I made it up entirely, I just wanted to see who’d overthink it.

We met at a dive bar with Tuesday karaoke because that’s where he said he’d be with friends anyway, low pressure, easy exit if it was weird. It was weird, in a good way — I sang a truly embarrassing version of a Dixie Chicks song and he sang after me just so I wouldn’t be the only one who bombed. We talked for three hours about nothing important, his ex-roommate’s terrible cooking, my irrational hatred of scented candles, and I forgot to check my phone the entire time, which never happens.

It’s been about four months now. He mailed me a bracelet made of Scrabble tiles that spell out “LIAR” as a joke, and I keep it on my desk where I can see it while I work. What I actually learned from this whole thing is that the profile detail that gets you a match isn’t the flattering photo, it’s the one weird specific thing that makes a stranger want to argue with you a little. That’s what got his attention, not my face.