“Uh, Wes, we got a problem.”
Wes looked over from his game of FIFA. “You got a dude? I told you, just swipe left.”
“No, not that. It says I ran out of swipes and that I need to pay money for more.”
“WHAT?” Wes exclaimed, running over to investigate the phone’s screen. “You’re kidding me. I didn’t know Tinder was pay-to-win. That’s bullcrap.”
“Not only that, but I only got one message out of all those matches.”
“Who’s it from? Let me see!”
LaMarcus opened up the message, which read, “Heeeeeeeeyyyyyyy ;)”. It was from a girl that LaMarcus barely remembered seeing.
Grimacing, Wes said, “She’s not terrible. You’d go out with that, right? She seems like GF material. She’s not a total whale, anyway.”
“She’s sort of cute,” LaMarcus agreed. “What should I say? Usually I just ask girls if they want the BBC but that doesn’t seem totally appropriate here.”
“I can’t do all the work for you, man. You figure it out,” Wes said, turning back to his video game.
LaMarcus stared blankly at the screen in front of him. Was this the time for pickup lines? Not like he knew any. Should he keep it simple with a “hey”? After much typing and much deleting, he finally settled on “Hey. We should go on a date and then you can be my girlfriend.”
“Okay, message sent,” LaMarcus announced. “Now we just gotta figure out how to get my credit card number into this thing. It’s not like ten bucks is going to put a big dent in my paycheck.”
This time, Wes didn’t even pause the game. “I don’t care how much money you have. Don’t pay any of it to the Tinder cartel,” he said, not taking his eyes away from the television screen. “They’re already mining your messages for advertising keywords. They don’t need any more help making money.”
“Oh,” LaMarcus said sadly. “So it’s just this one chick for now, I guess. You’re sure I shouldn’t go back and message all those other matches I got?”
“No way. Remember, they’re the desperate ones. I’m pretty sure Tinder has an algorithm where if you’re male and you send the first message, the only chicks you see are super ugly. I read it on a blog.”
“You’re the boss,” LaMarcus said. He just wanted a girlfriend.
—
Wes reached up and straightened his teammate’s collar. “Looking good my man. Remember, I’ll be in the corner of the coffee shop with my newspaper, but I’ll be listening to the whole convo. If there’s something I want you to say I’ll write it on the newspaper in purple marker.”
LaMarcus was unsure. “Is that really necessary? I woo chicks all the time with my sweet-talking.”
“Dude, there’s a huge diff between trying to get chicks to sleep with you and being a respectful gentleman who is trying to get a GF. Obviously you suck at the latter, which is why I’m here.”
“I’m nervous,” LaMarcus said.
“Just remember, she’s the desperate one,” Wes reminded his teammate, before grabbing him by the shoulders, turning him around, and pushing him towards the door to the coffee shop. “Now go in there and own it. OWN IT!”
“I’m going to own it,” LaMarcus confirmed, walking into the unfamiliar establishment. He bypassed the line for ordering drinks and instead sat an empty table to for two. He watched Wes enter the shop a minute later, dressed in a long overcoat and with a top hat pulled far over his face. Wes settled into a table in LaMarcus’ line of sight, just as planned.
After a few minutes of nervously fiddling with his phone, a shadow appeared on the table surface. LaMarcus looked up to see his date standing there, smiling at him. “Are you LaMarcus?” she asked.
“Y-” LaMarcus began before gulping. “Yeah. You must be Jennifer.” She was a little tubbier in real life than her profile pic had indicated. He chanced a quick glance in his teammate’s direction, wondering is he should abort immediately, but Wes had his face buried behind the newspaper.
“Do you want a coffee?” Jennifer asked.
“Uh, no…no thanks. I don’t drink coffee.”
Jennifer looked a little put out. “Oh. Okay. I’ll be right back, then.”
After she went to the counter to order, LaMarcus looked again towards his teammate. Wes was busy scribbling something on a sheet of newspaper with a purple Crayola marker. Finally, he held it up, but LaMarcus could barely read it. He leaned forward and squinted before deciding on what the letters spelled out: “Talk about fair trade coffee.”
When Jennifer got back with her drink, LaMarcus started the conversation. “I should have explained myself better. I only drink coffee if it’s fairly sourced and not produced by slave labor. Sorry if I sounded a little terse.” He smiled to show how friendly he was.
“I sooooo agree with you,” Jennifer gushed. “That’s why I suggested this place! It’s all fair-trade!”
“Yeah, well, I also have an overactive bladder so I don’t drink a lot of coffee,” LaMarcus said. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Wes waving his arms frantically, so he decided to change the subject. “But let’s talk about you instead.”
Part III: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XKodU…