It had been difficult to keep from checking his messages every five seconds, waiting for a reply to his message. They had matched the previous day and Stede had waited until the evening to send his message. So far, no response. It was agony.
Is this how dating was now? Waiting and hoping and worrying? Did he come off too strong? What if his match had swiped right by accident when really he had meant to swipe left?
He pulled out his phone again and read through his own message to check for egregious typos that changed its meaning.
Stede Bonnet (21:07):
Hello! I hope this isn't too forward of me, but I noticed we matched earlier today and we are both in Wellington. Gosh, it's been a while since I've done anything like this. Are you amenable to perhaps meeting up for a coffee some time?
Stede
It was too much. He threw his phone down on the sofa and ran his fingers through his hair. Maybe he should have gotten Mary to read it through first. She was always better at online stuff. Apps and the like. Even at work he left all of the social media stuff to the younger members of the team. He had little patience for it all.
He let out a slow breath and glanced at his phone again. Traitorous thing. He needed to get up. Move around and distract himself. Go to the gym maybe. Instead he picked up his phone and googled tips on how to improve the likelihood of getting a date through a dating app. Maybe he could put up a shirtless picture. People still did that, didn't they?
