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Her date was a bust.

The woman was dragging a churro through a plate of chocolate when she looked up at after several long minutes of silence that suspected were awkward only for her. “So you must get busy when the power goes out.”

The woman’s lashes were long, her buzz cut painfully hot. The creative intensity promised by this mural artist via flirting on the app should have been plugging into all of ’s sockets—creative intensity was more than a little of what turned on—but every attempt they made to talk to each other wasn’t hitting, as though they were on the same date but in parallel universes.

“Um, no,” said. “It’s more city workers and linemen who get busy during power outages.”

“I thought you were a city worker?”

“Engineer.”

“Huh.” The woman nodded. “Is that why you’re wearing the math shirt? God, I hated math.” Her smartwatch lit up and buzzed, and she looked at it, then started tapping away.

“Yeah,” said, to no one.

The weather was so good, was the thing. Early May in Wisconsin couldn’t always be counted on to provide this much sun. The big front windows of Canyon Tacos were open, a cool breeze sifting over the busy dining room. This should have been a perfect night for a first date with a woman who’d made her the right amount of nervous. She’d imagined their date might end with a long walk in the warm twilight.

The woman looked up at . “Hey, so, this sucks, but I’ve got to go.”

glanced at the woman’s smartwatch, where the logo of a hookup app had just faded from the screen. “I understand.”

“Uh, here.” Her date dove into the pockets of her tiny denim skirt and pulled out a twenty, waving it over her plate of chocolate.

“Don’t worry about it.”

The woman grinned, and felt a deep pang of regret that the first smile of that magnitude she’d been offered on this date had come when she’d said she would pay. “Cool. I’ll…see you around, maybe?”

“Maybe.” watched her date weave through the crowd, then pulled her wallet out of her purse as the server came over.

“Oh, hey.” The server picked up a beanie from the floor near the table. “Is this yours?”

had watched her date pull off the Carhartt beanie when they sat down. “I’ll take it, thanks.”

She traded it for her credit card and walked partway through the crowd, looking out the door to see if she could catch her ex-date. Then she got out her phone to send a text.

I don’t see you, and I’ve done a complete turn of the first floor. You forgot your beanie.

sorry! I don’t think I can help. you’ve got the wrong number

closed her eyes in frustration. Online dating was starting to get so tiresome. It would be nice to meet someone literally any other way.

Look, it’s fine to tell me to keep it, or not reply at all, but you don’t have to ghost me in disguise. I get that a second date’s not happening.

hey, so…this is the wrong number, for sure. my name’s Tressa Fay, and I’m at home communing with my cat and soup, and I didn’t have a date tonight or anytime in the foreseeable future, actually, but good luck out there, it’s the level worst

looked at the number she’d texted at the top. So weird. She’d thought she was replying to her date’s last text, but apparently she had somehow started a new thread? !!! I have the wrong number.

yes

I just realized. I used the wrong first three digits.

oh, no. numbers are so tricky

I’m an ENGINEER.

remind me not to drive over any of your bridges.

laughed out loud. At least her wrong number knew what an engineer was.

One collapsed bridge and a girl’s got a reputation.

sat down, waiting to see if she’d get a reply to her joke. She looked out the window at the lavender twilight.

It really was a pretty night.