“I’m sorry,” they said from behind me. “The chocolates are...look delicious, thank you. Maybe we can have some after the show? I did a whole livestream once with chia seeds in my teeth, so I don’t eat right before streaming anymore.”
I turned. “No, but for real, how can you eat chia seeds? That shit is alien.”
They smiled a little weakly. “I know. I think that’s why I like them. There’s a sense of wrongness about them that resonates with me.”
I experienced this terrible urge to hug them or comfort them or something, which I forced down beneath the humiliation of bringing an unwanted gift to a friend. My brain was super confused about how it felt. “Don’t worry about the chocolates, seriously. It’s no big deal.”
“Let’s open them after we do the show.” They went behind the desk and started (or maybe resumed) doing stuff at the computer, but leaning over, not sitting down. It seemed strangely unguarded, like the kind of thing they’d do if no one else were there.
My meters were all scrambled from the unwanted chocolates calamity so I couldn’t get a good read on whether or not I should sit down. The alternative being to hover awkwardly. “Can I grab a bottle of water? Is that okay?”
“Sure. They’re in the fridge.”
“Want one?”
“Please.”
There’s something intimate about looking in a person’s refrigerator. I couldn’t help but notice that last week’s batch of dead and decaying vegetables had been replaced by a bag of wilting spinach and some very flaccid looking carrots. “Um, Sidney? What’s up with the produce graveyard?”
They groaned. “I know. I keep thinking I’ll do salads or something. Then I don’t. And everything turns to mush. The thing is, I really enjoy salads in a restaurant. They’re complex and interesting. But I cannot get it up to make a good salad at home. It always ends up being some greens with oil and vinegar on top.”
“I think the key to home salads is prep. If you have everything ready to go, you’re more likely to make a salad. And it’s more likely to be delicious.”
“That makes perfect sense.” They gestured to the chair beside them. “You ready?”
I handed them their bottle of water and opened my own, so I wouldn’t have to do it on video. Just in case it was a stubborn one. Sidney’s second chair was beginning to feel like my chair, as in, I sat down in my chair. That was probably a danger sign of some sort. I put it out of my head while they hit record and did the intro.
“Welcome to another episode of The Love Study. The series about love, dating, and the pursuit of queer companionship in a bleak and hopeless world. I’m your spinster uncle Sidney, and this is my co-host, and our volunteer for the dating trenches, Declan.”
I waved at the camera. “Hellooooo.”
“So, Declan. You went on your second date in six years.”
“I did!”
“Is it like riding a bike?”
“Not exactly. I mean, I didn’t really do this when I was younger. It’s definitely different than dating in college. And I hooked up with my ex when we were like...twenty-one? So I’m a lot older now, which changes things.”
Sidney nodded. “I can only imagine it would. Do you want to tell us a little about Date #2?”
“That’s why I’m here! Let’s do it.”
DATE #2: CONVENTIONALLY HANDSOME GENTLEMAN WHO WAS MAYBE TOO CHIVALROUS
I spilled the whole date out for Sidney (and the folks at home) like someone who’s waited too long to go to the doctor so when they finally do they recite fourteen years’ worth of complaints all at once, finally ending with, “So anyway, I got the cheeseburger, which had bleu cheese and bacon and caramelized onions and oh my god it was like amazing. The highlight of the date was that burger. For sure.” I sat back and took a deep breath.
“Okay,” they said. Their expression had gone through many flavors of contrition and displeasure, but had settled in familiar YouTube-persona neutrality. “All right, um...are you all right?”
“Yeah, sure. No harm no foul. Other fish in the sea or whatever.” I was getting tired of my own voice so I took a sip of water.
“It sounds like Date #2 was a little...rough.” They were being careful, I thought. I wasn’t sure if that was because we were on YouTube and they had to maintain impartiality or because they were good at seeing different sides of situations.
Which, so could I. Eventually. “It was, uh, good perspective. He probably left and told his friends he went out with a caveman who hated art and had a burger at a restaurant when he could have had salmon.”
“Should we still do the three questions?” Sidney asked.
“Yeah. It’s still a date. It counts.” I noted with relief that I was stating, not asking. It had for sure counted. After talking to Sidney on the show it felt even more like it counted, honestly.
“It does. So, on a scale of one to five, how would you rate your physical chemistry?”
“Maybe a three? I think three might be as high as I can go if I’m not into someone.”
“That’s interesting. You can’t feel powerfully physically connected to someone unless you like them?”
“I guess I could feel attracted to someone I’d never met, but I wouldn’t then say we had chemistry.”
“Good distinction, thank you. Question two: How would you rate your intellectual chemistry?”
That one was easy. “Zero. Unless this scale has negative values.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Then zero. Flat line. Dead in the water.”
Both of us nodded, not quite in unison, like we’d been rehearsing but our timing was off.
Sidney cleared their throat. “So question three, for the sake of the format: Would you go out on a date with this person again?”
“Nope. Sorry, I kind of feel like I’ve failed you so far.” I gestured at the camera. “All of you.”
“By not falling in love with one of the two people you’ve dated in the last six years?” Their voice was deadpan, but I could see the smirk in their eyes. (That’s a thing.)
“Okay, that does make it sound like my expectations are skewed. I guess maybe I didn’t realize how hard this is. And you’re doing a lot of the administration. But just the awkward planning, and the leading-up-to-the-date anxiety, and then the actual date, and no matter how compatible you are with someone if you don’t know them there’s going to be weird little pockets of silence and times when probably both of you wish you were somewhere else.”