I spent the next few minutes logging the details of other men I’d encountered on Fluttr who’d flaked out, harassed me, or otherwise screwed me over.
There was Shawn, 27, from Hoboken, who started a very friendly text conversation and then abruptly demanded nudes.
There was Enzo, 30, from Washington Heights, who showed up to our date looking about twenty years older than his profile picture.
There was Pavel, 28, from Astoria, who smashed and dashed after our third date, never to be heard from again.
And then there was Alex.
Technically, he didn’t belong on JerkAlert. We hadn’t met on Fluttr. We never went on a date. Before our little run-in at The Barley House, we’d barely said two words to each other.
But, still, he’d hurt my feelings. Before his girlfriend showed up, he was definitely flirting with me. He asked me to lunch. He made me think there was a reason to have hope, and then pulled the rug out from under me.
It was humiliating.
Name: Alex
Age: 26
Location: FiDi
Review: Flirted with me hard. Asked me out. Then his girlfriend showed up.
After I hit Submit, I had a pang of conscience. After all, what he did was shitty, but Alex wasn’t the worst guy in the world. He was still smart and attractive. And at least he didn’t show me a picture of his dick.
Besides, it didn’t matter what I posted on JerkAlert, because I never had any intention of letting anyone else see what I’d written. Now that I’d purged my disappointment and embarrassment, I realized the site was a terrible idea. It was mean-spirited and dirty, the exact opposite of what I wanted my love life to be. Just because guys—or, more accurately, some guys—made my Fluttr experience miserable, it didn’t mean I had to stoop down to their level. I could rise above and choose to remain positive. And I would.
As soon as I showed it to the girls.
* * *
From: Melanie Strickland
To: Whitney Hwang; Lia Berman; Dani Silva
Subject: Introducing... JerkAlert!
I found the solution to my problem...http://jerkalert.biz
* * *
After our bitchfest on Friday night, I figured they’d get a kick out of it. Maybe they’d even review a few men of their own before I took the whole thing offline.
* * *
Monday started off as per usual.
“I can’t connect to the internet.”
Josh Brewster was standing in front of me, nostrils flaring like a pissed-off bull. As if I were the cause of his internet connectivity issue, as opposed to the person who could help him solve it.
“Have you tried—”
“Listen,” he said, “I don’t have time for this. I got Vijay breathing down my neck right now and this fucking broken piece of shit won’t work.” He gave his laptop a violent shake. “You’re the help desk, right? Give me some goddamn help.”
There was no point in engaging him. I knew what these Hatchlings were like. Entitled bros who thought I existed merely to serve them. If I dared to challenge Josh right now, he’d report me to my manager, Bob. Then Bob would say, “Calm down, Mel. Don’t take things so personally.” He’d tell me these guys were under a lot of pressure, and that it was my job to make their lives easier. Plus, he’d probably be annoyed with me for forcing him to have this conversation in the first place.
I knew because this had happened before, too many times to count. So even though I hated having to grin and bear this verbal abuse, in the long run, it was far easier to suck it up and play nice.
“Let’s take a look,” I said, forcing a smile as Josh thrust the laptop into my hands. A quick peek at the proxy settings confirmed my suspicions. “You’re infected with malware.”
“What?”
“Did you shut down the local firewall?”
“No, why?”
“There’s a virus on your laptop. It’s blocking your internet access.” This was the second time I’d had to clear malware from Josh’s computer in as many weeks. The first time, his desktop had become overrun with pop-up ads for adult chat rooms and discount designer sunglasses. “What kinds of websites have you been visiting?”
He snorted. “You know, I don’t like what you’re implying. Don’t go accusing me of shit. Ever think that maybe you just didn’t fix the problem the first time around?”
Stay calm. Don’t engage.
“I’m gonna need a couple of hours to fix this. I can drop it off at your desk before lunch.”
“Un-fucking-real.” He threw his hands up in frustration. “I can’t meet my deadline without a working laptop. What the hell am I supposed to tell Vijay?”
That you’ve been surfing porn sites instead of doing your job.
“I’ll get it done as quickly as possible, Josh.”
“Make sure you actually fix it this time.”
With a swivel of my office chair, I turned my back to him, pretending not to hear the swearing as he stormed away.
The nerve of this guy, trying to pin his shady web-browsing habits on me. Then again, I’m not sure why I expected better behavior from someone who had a “Free Mustache Rides” sticker on the cover of his laptop. Which was most definitely in violation of Hatch’s Code of Conduct, but I wasn’t going to be the hysterical bitch who pointed that out.
Instead, I calmly closed each one of the dozen programs Josh had open and rebooted the system in safe mode to prepare for yet another round of virus removal.
While I waited, I pulled out my phone and saw a text from Whitney: That JerkAlert thing you sent last night is amazing. Where did you find it?
Funny. She thought it was an actual website.
MEL:
I made it myself. Hilarious, no?
WHITNEY:
More like brilliant!
Josh’s laptop flickered on, and I began the tedious process of scanning for vulnerabilities and deleting infected files. Between this incident and Greg’s coffee spill, I was basically a high-tech janitor, cleaning up the messes the Hatchlings so carelessly left behind. What a perfectly good waste of my eighty-thousand-dollar computer science degree.
It constantly amazed me, how these irresponsible guys scored sought-after spots in one of the most reputable start-up incubation programs in the country. Maybe that explained why such a high percentage of them failed. Maybe they were really good at pitching their ideas during the application process, but when it came to following through on what they promised, they couldn’t deliver. Maybe all it took to succeed in this business was the balls to finish what you started.