Theories of Insanity

20 | A Stranger from the Internet

20 | A Stranger from the Internet

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

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Insanity:

Going out with someone from Tinder. Period. It's ridiculous.

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            "Well, we now have every hair color in the apartment."

            The day before my date with Michael, I had gone back to the salon to get my roots covered up—I had no intentions of going back to being a brunette anytime soon. Ashley had come with me again, but this time she had gone with a change of her own—she was now a redhead.

            In all honesty, it looked amazing. She looked like a model, and I was insanely jealous. Her new red hair made for a new record in the apartment—we now had every (naturally attainable) hair color in the apartment. Christina and I were blonde, Samantha and Madison were brunette, Paige had jet black hair, and Ashley now had red.

            Everyone was chilling in the living room together, for once seeming as if the entire apartment was in order and no one was irrationally angry with anyone else. But the second a knock sounded on the front door, everyone bolted for their own rooms, winking at me and giving me little nudges as they went. Ashley left the room last, giving my arm a squeeze.

            "If he brings out a knife or something, just yell and I'll come kill him."

            "Thanks." I laughed, "I'll make sure to frisk him before we watch the show."

            "Or during." She winked before flouncing into her room.

            I took a deep breath and put my hand on the doorknob. I had never been on a date from a dating app before, and I could feel the nerves bubbling over inside of me. He was probably completely normal. I was probably fine. (1)

            I swung the door open before I could convince myself not to and greeted the guy standing on the other side: he was surprisingly shorter than I thought he would have been—at least judging from his profile pictures. He was around 5'9" or 5'10", with red hair and bright blue eyes. He was skinny—probably skinnier than I was, to be honest—and had the biggest smile on his face.

            "Morgan?"

            "That's me!" I laughed, "Michael?"

            "In the flesh." He grinned, "How are you?"

            "I'm doing great." I smiled, stepping back to allow him into the apartment. "Come on in."

            He stepped inside and we walked over to the couch, sitting down as I turned on the television.

            "I've never actually been on a Tinder date before." I said, "So I'm sorry if I'm weird or anything."

            He laughed: a big, genuine laugh that made me smile.

            "I think you'll be fine. You know, except for the fact that I'm a total stranger from the Internet."

            I laughed, glad that the unconventional way of us meeting could be joked about.

            "You're right. But now you'll see the kind of shows I like, and you'll probably be the one who ends up scared." I selected Pretty Little Liars from the Netflix queue and turned the volume down slightly as the show began. "Have you ever seen this show?"