Meera had heard all the stories. The horror stories, the ghosting, the cheesy pick-up lines, the mismatched dates. But she was ready. Ready to take the plunge into the world of online dating. Armed with a fresh profile picture and an optimistic mindset, she downloaded the app and hit “sign up.”
Her heart raced as the first profile popped up: a tall, well-groomed guy with a smile that could melt ice. Mmm, okay, she thought. Let’s see where this goes.
Swipe right.
It started simple enough. Cute messages, harmless banter, maybe even a little flirting. She thought she was getting the hang of this. “I could totally be the girl who meets someone online,” she told herself. This is 2025, after all.
Then came the first red flag.
His name was Vikram. They had exchanged a few texts, and Meera was starting to think he might actually be a decent guy. Until he messaged:
Vikram: “I love coffee. Do you?”
Meera: “Yeah, I’m obsessed! Morning, afternoon, it’s all coffee all day.”
Vikram: “Great. We should meet. I’ll take you to this cute coffee place. But I can only drink coffee with someone who isn’t an ‘allergic-to-caffeine’ type, you know?”
Meera stared at the message, a puzzled frown forming. “What does he mean by that?” She had no idea. Is he testing me? she wondered. Is this some weird metaphor?
She shot a message back, pretending she understood:
Meera: “Haha, no worries. I’m definitely a coffee lover.”
Ding!
Vikram: “Perfect. Let’s meet tomorrow. I’ll bring my best coffee game. You bring the vibes.”
The vibe? What did that even mean?
The next day, Meera showed up at the coffee shop, scanning the crowd. She texted him.
Meera: “Here. Where are you?”
His reply was almost instant:
Vikram: “I’m at the bar, got a little distracted by my coffee orders, sorry. Don’t worry, I’m the guy in the red jacket. You’ll spot me.”
Meera looked around, spotting no one in a red jacket. Is this a joke? She stared at the phone, puzzled.
A few minutes passed, and then she saw him. The guy who had claimed to be in the red jacket was standing by the bar, wearing a neon green hoodie.
She couldn’t help but laugh. She texted him again.
Meera: “I think you meant green.”
Vikram: “Oh yeah, sorry. I just get so caught up in my coffee world, you know?”
As they settled into conversation, things seemed to take a turn for the bizarre. Vikram had a habit of dropping very random facts into their chat.
Vikram: “I’m obsessed with pomegranates. Did you know they were once used as currency?”
Meera: “What?”
Vikram: “Yeah, ancient Persia. You can Google it, but I promise, I know my fruits.”
Meera blinked, unsure if he was serious or just messing around. She had no idea what was going on, but she didn’t want to come off as too confused. So she nodded, pretending like she was interested in fruit history.
After an hour, the date finally ended, but the confusion didn’t. She thought she’d at least walk away with a decent connection, but all she could do was laugh at the absurdity of it all.
She wasn’t sure what she was expecting—maybe chemistry, maybe conversation that didn’t feel like a weird quiz show—but what she got was a bizarre collection of “coffee metaphors,” random fruit facts, and plenty of vibes that were clearly meant to remain undefined.
Over the next few days, the app had already begun to overwhelm her. Messages flooded in: “Hey, what’s your favorite fruit?” “Looking for my partner in crime. Into tattoos and bad decisions.” “Are you more of a cat person or a dog person? Choose wisely.”
It felt like an endless loop of quirky prompts and questions that didn’t lead anywhere. She tried to keep up, but at some point, it all blurred together.
Then came the infamous “ghosting.”
One guy, Rahul, had been texting her non-stop. They had great conversations for two days. They’d exchanged memes, deep philosophical thoughts, and late-night texting marathons. She was hopeful.
And then... nothing.
For 72 hours, her phone was silent. No “Hey, what’s up?” or “How’s your day going?” from Rahul. Had she done something wrong? She stared at the screen, convinced it was some grand cosmic prank. She couldn’t help but wonder if he had just gotten bored or if he had swiped left in real life.
The whole experience left her exhausted. Was this how dating worked now? Endless swipes, matches that go nowhere, confusing banter, and waiting for a text back that may never come?
But then again, maybe that’s just what the game was. The world of dating apps was a place of chaos and confusion, a mix of random personalities and bizarre encounters.
And somehow, in the midst of it all, Meera couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. After all, it was 2025, and this was the new normal.
Maybe the answer wasn’t finding the perfect match. Maybe it was about surviving the confusion—and laughing through the mess.
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