“We’re capping the guest list at fifty, plus there’ll be a few other people working the event.”
He pursed his lips and took a deep breath, probably doing mental math to calculate how many people could safely fit on that tiny rooftop.
“There were definitely more than fifty people at the last party,” Vanessa said. “I’ll be super careful.”
She squeezed his arm and he looked from her hand to her eyes, his mouth softening into a grin. “You better.”
“I promise I will.” She raised up onto her tiptoes, planting a kiss on Ray’s lips.
With that problem solved, I still had about a thousand others to address. Like getting the mapping feature in working condition so people could find the venue the night of the party. Not to mention, testing out my algorithm to make sure I sent the right invites to the right people and kept an accurate count of RSVPs.
There was no way I was going to finish this all in a week.
I texted the girls: I’m fucked.
WHIT:
You say this shit so often the words have lost all their meaning.
MEL:
No, this time it’s true. Big time investor showed up tonight. Wants to see inPerson in action. I lied and told her there was a party planned next week. Now she wants to come. So I have to actually put one on.
WHIT:
Oh, you’re right. You’re fucked.
LIA:
Stop. You’ll get it done, you always do.
MEL:
There’s too much to fix, though. Even if I stayed up all night, I’d never get it all finished.
DANI:
Can you enlist help?
LIA:
Yeah, did you meet any other coders at that networking event?
MEL:
Good call. I totally did.
I scrolled through my contacts and pulled up Priya’s number, then sent her a text:
Hi Priya, it’s Mel Strickland. I have an opportunity for an internship that I think you might find interesting. Give me a call whenever you’re free to discuss.
Since it was ten o’clock on a Thursday night, and Priya was in the prime of her college life, I assumed she was out drinking somewhere on MacDougal Street and I’d hear from her tomorrow, after the worst of her hangover had worn off. To my surprise, though, she called me back almost immediately.
“That was fast,” I said.
“Thank you so much for contacting me,” she said. “I want first dibs on whatever it is you’ve got to offer.”
“Well, as it turns out, we’re going to be holding our first inPerson event next week. The problem is, the app isn’t quite where it needs to be.” Translation: it’s a broken POS. “So, I was wondering if you’d be interested in taking on some extra work over the next few days, helping out with bug fixes and testing and stuff. I can pay you by the hour, and—”
“Yes!” Priya didn’t bother to wait until I finished my sentence. “I would love to. Thank you!”
“Great. Right now, I don’t have an office, but I feel like it would be beneficial for us to work in the same space. Would you be okay with coming to my place in Brooklyn tomorrow to get started? I’ll provide food.”
“Absolutely. I’ll be there bright and early.”
I hung up, wishing I’d been as ambitious as Priya when I was in college. If I had, who knew how much I’d have accomplished by now?
But playing what-if wouldn’t get inPerson off the ground. I flipped open my laptop and got to work testing the algorithm for sending out those invites. I decided our first event would focus on straight couples, with dedicated safe-space events for queer users taking place at later dates. For now, that meant the algorithm would need to ensure a balanced selection of men and women, while keeping in mind similar age ranges, interests, and general locations.
After a few tweaks to the code, I found the perfect way to pick the guest list from the names on our waiting list. Then I composed the email:
* * *
To: inPerson Guest
From: Melanie Strickland
Subject: You’re Invited to the First inPerson Singles Mixer!
Congratulations!
You’ve been invited to participate in the first ever inPerson Singles Mixer.
The event will be held in Downtown Brooklyn on Thursday, May 17 at 6:00 PM. An hour before it begins, you’ll be provided with a map to the venue. Just open your inPerson app and let your GPS be your guide to love!
RSVP at the link below no later than Monday, May 14.
Can’t wait to see you there!
xo
Mel
* * *
With a shaky finger, I hit Send.
There was no turning back now.
* * *
Coding with Priya was an unprecedented pleasure. Starting on Friday, we sat side by side on my living room couch, methodically working our way through the list of inPerson bugs and features that needed to be fixed. I ordered takeout for lunch, and provided an endless supply of junk food to fuel our coding marathons. We’d work for eight-to-ten hour stretches, sipping Cokes and staring at our screens until our eyes became dry and bloodshot. Then she’d head home for the night and I’d turn in, and we’d start the process all over again the next morning.
After so many years of sharing office space with people who talked down to me, doubted my intelligence, or told me to smile through a tirade, working with Priya was a breath of fresh air. We treated each other with respect, shared ideas openly and without fear, and handled disagreements in a mature and civil manner. It was unlike any working relationship I’d ever had.
While this was going on, RSVPs started to roll in for the Thursday mixer. For every “No” received, the software selected another comparable person from the database and sent a replacement invite. I kept a close eye on responses, making sure it went according to plan. So far, so good. Eventually, we reached our fifty-person limit, with a shorter waitlist to account for any last-minute cancellations.
Then, on Tuesday night, at exactly 5:53 p.m., Priya and I closed out our final bug. After running through all our test cases, we confidently uploaded the official stable release of inPerson to the app store.
“We did it!” Priya squealed.
“I know. With a whole day to spare. I kind of can’t believe it.”
“I can. We worked our butts off.”
I laughed. “Thanks for all your help.”
“Oh, it was no problem.” She zipped up her laptop bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Honestly, it was an honor to be included.”