Lizzy swipes left for the man wearing a gas mask. Left for the man in leopard print short shorts lounging on a couch holding a martini glass. Left for the picture of a shoe. Left for an empty profile. Left for the girl who clearly likes camping too much. Left for theā€¦ person?... whose profile pic is of a lion eating a gazelle. Left for the smokers. Left for the guy who lives in another country (he doesn't even go here). Left for the couple looking to make it a throuple. Left for the girl who hates pizza. Left for the girl who's old enough to be her mother. Left for the guy whose picture is only the lower half of his face. Left for bad grammer. Left for any profile that just says, "Ask me."

Ask you what? There's literally nothing to go off of.

Lizzy swipes right for a guy with two cute dogs she'd like to meet (the man has some potential, too). Right for a girl who likes big band music and black coffee. Right for Tattooed Guy. Right for Blue Haired Girl.

The ratio, she estimates, is 1 right swipe for every 15 lefts.

Matches: 7

Conversations started: 3

Conversations that last longer than one exchange: 2

In-person dates: 0

Because the world is a dumpster fire and Lizzy hasn't left her apartment in 57 days (but who's counting?). Because a pandemic has all of New York City locked inside their apartments, libidos high, and the chance to get any action 0%. If one of these conversations lasts long enough to make it to an in-person date (who knows how many days away they are from that even being an option), she'll marry them.

She's swiping left on a golfer when a banner drops onto the screen letting her know she's matched with Blue Haired Girl. After skimming her profile again, she latches onto a particularly interesting fact and crafts her first message:

There is no world in which NSYNC is better than BSB. Kindly provide an explanation.

Later that day, Blue Haired Girl (whose name, she can now see, is Vanessa) sends back:

["It's Gonna be May" meme]

Lizzy smiles around the rim of her coffee cup.

Well played. I love the blue hair, by the way.

Thanks! I love your pink hair. A midwesterner, huh? What brings you to New York?

Oh, you know. Got sick of getting up early to milk the cows and feed the chickens.

Just kidding. I moved out here to work in publishing, I'm an editor. What about you?

Currently unemployed thanks to this virus. But when I *am* employed, I'm an actress.

Anything I'd recognize?

I'll give you one guess, it's named after a city.

Oklahoma!

...Kidding. Again. I swear I graduated high school. Will hazard a guess at Chicago.

Ding ding! Although Oklahoma was honestly a better guess than most people have made.

Not sure how much I trust this app in the first place, since it tried to match me with someone whose photo was of a giant cat. So I wouldn't be surprised if they thought Oklahoma was a city. Have you ever been?

I have not. You're the midwesterner, have you?

I'm offended you'd think Oklahoma is considered part of the midwest.

Lizzy waits for a response, but the chat box is quiet. Because in less than ten minutes, she's already insulted this girl because of her incredible inability to flirt like a normal human being. She doesn't know any good pickup lines, and Google wasn't very helpful ("You can't spell virus without U and I"). She's not cool, not suave. Most of her friends are guys, and she's used to teasing and backhanded compliments.

She figures she'll give it a few more minutes, and when two hours have passed without another word from Vanessa, she goes back to swiping.