A Love Story
My dating app bio says that I, like Rousseau, believe that people are fundamentally good. This is realistically true for everyone except the man who installed my Wi-Fi. There’s a red pinhole light on the router in my bedroom that turns on from nine p.m. to five a.m. that I’m sixty percent sure is a camera. I don’t mind this, for the same reason I like going on errands with a buddy or doing my work next to a friend. It’s nice to have company.
I’m not having much luck with the dating app. I switch my bio around a bit. Looking for short-term, open to long becomes Looking for long-term, open to short. And 5’1” becomes 6’1”. Then, I wait. At nine p.m. the red light flicks on, and I put on a short play for my Wi-Fi router. I’m Hamlet. I’m not sure if the camera has sound, so I write audience-facing cue cards for the important bits. After Hamlet officiates his third wedding, it’s five, and the light flicks off.
I go on a date with my first dating app match, but he doesn’t compare to the malicious Wi-Fi man, who, in my mind, has been growing out a curly mustache like a Disney villain. I get home by nine and go on a date with the router. I eat pasta à la vodka and connect my phone via Wi-Fi to the printer. It’s nice. At five the light blinks out. I delete the dating app and sleep until the light comes back on.
Katie Baughman is from Kansas City, Missouri. She goes to school at Fordham University in New York City, where she studies English. Her works are coming soon in The Hooghly Review and Alternative Milk Magazine.