Late Night Brushes

Lost In The Algorithms: Daily Odyssey# 4

Navigating the dating scene at 40 feels like trying to read a book where half the pages are missing. It’s a blend of bewilderment, surprise delights, and those “what just happened?” moments. And let’s clear the air here — I’m not underestimating the value of a good fuck. To question its worth is like asking why we need to breathe.

I’m talking about the whole rigmarole of sparking up something new. Deep down, you crave more than idle chit-chat and fleeting looks. Even when you tell yourself it’s just casual dating, you know it’s rarely that straightforward.

Swipe right, swipe left, ghosted, catfished…it’s like navigating a minefield blindfolded.

So there I was, trying to channel my inner wordsmith at the bar. Just me and my hard-earned meal after a long week. That’s when she caught my attention — a brunette weaving tales about writing as effortlessly as a poet.

Before I knew it, we were lost in our little world, the bar’s hustle and bustle a distant backdrop. Fast forward 45 minutes, and I’m staring at a text that could’ve been plucked from a suspense novel: ‘My place, this time. See you there.’

What’s a guy to do but follow the narrative?