“She likes everyone.” I give her what I’m sure is a very subtle wink.

She gives me a thumbs-up and heads out, and finally a stall opens up. I rush in and lock the door.

As I relieve myself, I use the precious time to think about the highlights of the night. How my job robbed me of a social life and a dating life and a romantic life and a housewife life. I might be married with kids if it weren’t for that stupid job.

Ew. Definitely don’t want that.

But seriously, my friends are right. I’ve sacrificed a lot for my career. And for what? To watch my hard-earned promotion be handed to a man named Chad? Fuck that.

With drunkenness, as usual, comes clarity.

I flush, wash my hands, pour compliments over the new girls now waiting in line, and make my way back to the table. I pause at the end of the darkened back hallway, a smile growing as I see both Nick and Gemma chatting up a pair of super-hot babes, though Nick is keeping quite a bit of space between himself and the blonde making eyes at him. The girl from the bathroom pulls her attention from flirting with Gem and gives me a salute when she catches my eye.

Skirting around the table to avoid the new happy couples, I make my way to the bar. After another shot, I slide my phone out of my pants pocket, grateful for facial recognition because I’m not sure I could handle putting in a passcode at the moment. I pull up the dating app I haven’t opened in months. My last login date pops up on the screen. Yikes.

“Okay, Sadie. Let’s get serious. Let’s go on a motherfucking date.” Pretty sure the guy sitting next to me thinks I’m either wasted or crazy, but I’m too drunk to care.

I find a button directing me to local singles. A bunch of blurry photos come up for me to look through. Honestly, not sure if the photos are blurry or my eyesight is, but it doesn’t really matter. I swipe right on a couple of guys who don’t look completely pathetic, pretty proud of myself for taking this bare minimum of steps.

After a few more arbitrary swipes, my phone chirps with an alert.

Someone matched with me! On like, my first try! Okay, so there were probably like twenty tries altogether, but he picked me!

The app wants me to make some sort of selection; apparently this guy already wants a date. I toss my hair over my shoulder because check me out, that wasn’t even that hard. I squint my eyes until I make out the word “coffee.” Yes. Coffee date. Good. I tap the box, then choose Saturday at two o’clock. Middle of the day, no expectations. Easy peasy.