THE COOP

“How did you guys meet?” 

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I swore I would never do it, it was both deeply unfamiliar yet wholly intimate to put myself out there in such a way. I judged others who used it for more than a tongue-in-cheek game, and I judged myself for considering it an option. Yet there I was, at the bottom of a bag of Bella Union popcorn, fingers finalizing my Hinge profile. Who had I become? 

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I was tired of hookup culture at Duke. Tired of shooting my shot and the subsequent ricochet of said shot shooting me down. Sure, I knew that Hinge was probably going to be more of the same, but a small part of me held some hope. So I matched and matched and matched, but never sent a “like” to anyone at Duke, lurking instead on UNC and NC State profiles for people I knew I would never truly want to meet. Nothing too close, too familiar, too real. 

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But then, someone from Duke sent me a  “like.” Not just one of the trollish men who drop some corny pickup line to badly mask the lust wafting off their comments, or worse, simply liking my most revealing picture (sorry, but really, please do better). 

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This was someone kind and interested in being an actual human being with me. For the first time, I actually shared my number with a stranger online—in fact, I offered it to him—and despite the typical logistical challenges of being a Duke student, we met up anyway. (Take notes: If she wanted to, she would). Coffee leads to dinner leads to quick hugs between classes leads to something a little more. 

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But now, as we walk through Wu and Wilson and the occasional tent party and we bump into friends, acquaintances, nosy peers who only know me from my Instagram profile, we get the question: “How did you guys meet?” 

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Do we confess to near-strangers that we met on Hinge? We’re both wary to admit that we are two antisocial neanderthals unable to find human connection in real life. The genuine friends I have told react with a mixture of shock and congratulations, surprised I found someone genuine on a dating app full of wannabe-hook-ups, and maybe just a little judgmental that I even tried such a route. We’ve discussed simply telling people we met “at Duke,” but that vague description feels anticlimactic to the genuine connection we feel. 

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At the same time, why should we be ashamed of playing the field over phone screens and instant messaging? It’s no more embarrassing than trying to take your late night DFMOs or your frat situationships to the next level. Maybe I’m just coping, but maybe I just swiped right.