First of all, I don’t like crowds. Second, I don’t like immersive reality. And what do I choose: a nationwide event with that buffet table that stretches all the way into infinity. I mean, it’s nice what you do, but it’s a little Dalí to see that table going on forever with all these thirty-five- to fifty-year-old women mingling and eating virtual strawberries. I was thinking, Yeah, this is going to last ten minutes.

SUSAN: She was there for an hour by the time we met.

Worst hour of my life! I don’t know how anyone can handle those mingles. I’m just passing by one woman after another, not getting pinged by anyone. I finally meet this woman who green-lines me and we talk for a second, but the moment she finds out I’m in landscaping, she becomes a ghost. So basically I’m in this room filled with more and more ghosts, window-shopping for women to green-line, and mostly plunking femmes I don’t match with. I was actually starting to take a kind of sick pleasure in it—like it was a mafia game. Um, nope, not you. Plunk. Not you either. Plunk. I’m just taking woman after woman out, making them ghost-bodies. Seriously, I don’t know how anyone can stand those mixers for a full twenty-four hours.

SUSAN: But then you saw me.

She was over by the buffet table, getting a strawberry, and we looked at each other and green-lined immediately. And I know I sound cheesy, but, yeah, our eyes met across a crowded room.

SUSAN: I love when you sound cheesy.

How long did we actually stay there?

SUSAN: Six minutes.

We exchanged user IDs and both of us were like, Um, it’s a little crowded here. Want to sign up and rent a private space somewhere? She said, The Tropics? and I said, You bet, and we both swiped Yes for membership and, well, you get the picture.

SUSAN: That was the best first date I’ve ever been on. We’ve been together for seven years.

Well, at least online.

SUSAN: Hm. She has a husband in real life. Which I don’t want to know about. I mean, online it’s just the two of us and that’s it.

Really though, East–to–West Coast plane tickets? One ticket is enough for a year of service. And for what? So we can “see” each other for a weekend. Even if we could afford the trip, the hubby would never go for it.

SUSAN: Maybe we don’t get to hold hands, like real hands, but that’s fine—it’s not like we need to do that. Besides, like she said, real life isn’t part of the agreement.

She’s happy, I’m happy. Yeah, we’re essentially the poster girls for you guys. So, go ahead and quote us, you gave us True Love.

CHILDHOOD