Nancy Jo Sales - Nothing Personal

Some names and identifying details have been changed and some individuals are composites.

Copyright 2021 by Nancy Jo Sales

Cover design by Amanda Kain
Cover photograph plainpicture/Ute Mans
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First Edition: May 2021

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Sales, Nancy Jo, author.
Title: Nothing personal: my secret life in the dating app inferno / Nancy Jo Sales.
Description: First edition. | New York: Hachette Books, 2021. |
Identifiers: LCCN 2020029602 | ISBN 9780316492744 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780316492799 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Online dating. | Man-woman relationships.
Classification: LCC HQ801.82 .S25 2021 | DDC 306.730285dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020029602

ISBNs: 978-0-316-49274-4 (hardcover), 978-0-316-49279-9 (ebook)

E3-20210407-DA-PC-ORI

For Donald Suggs Jr.

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The act of sex may be nothing, but when you reach my age you learn that at any time it may prove to be everything.

Graham Greene, The End of the Affair

L ook. I bedazzled my mask.

Im FaceTiming with Constance at the beginning of the pandemic. Shes told me she wants this to be a ladies night in the time of corona. I didnt know we were supposed to get dressed up for the occasion, so Im wearing my usual jeans and an oversized sweatshirt with the logo for the band Kiss on it. Constance is in a blue evening gown, which she says she put on because she might not ever get another chance. Shes done her dark hair in carefully sculpted layers that make her look like a character on Dynasty. Im drinking an IPA; she has champagne. Im not sure how to get an angle that doesnt make me look like a melting candle. She looks fabulous.

She holds up a gold lam surgical mask shes affixed with fake crystals that spell out New York. Its the city where we live. She stretches the mask across her face with smiling eyes. She seems happier than Ive seen her in years.

Dick thinks its so cute the way I have to make everything a fashion statement, she tells me.

Dick is the guy Constance met on Tinder a few weeks ago, when the spread of the coronavirus started to get bad. His name is Richard, she says, but she calls him Dick, like all his close friends do.

Hes my quarantine bae. Do you know what that is, a bae? she asks.

I tell her yes, I know.

Constance is in her mid-fifties, like I am. We met in Carl Schurz Park when our daughters were small. I had my sixteenth birthday at Studio 54, she told me with a wistful smile that day, the first time I ever remember reminiscing about how things used to be when I was young.

Years later, I would see the picture Constance posted on Facebook of a red-lipped beauty in a Madonna-style bustier, a glamorous shot of her taken at the now-shuttered Lucky Strike, from back in the days when we were running around New York, meeting men.

Do you remember how much fun it was? she said dreamily, that day in the park.

Yes, I said. I did.

I didnt want to tell her about the times I remembered that werent so great, about the bad dates that went seriously wrong. She seemed to be the type who wanted to look back with rose-colored shades.

We were so gorgeous then, she said.

In her thirties, Constance married a hedge fund guy, and for years she lived the life of a Scarsdale wife and mom. Then her husband lost everything in the Great Recession and began to drink. Constance started selling real estate after leaving him, which she did after he pushed her down in an argument and broke her rib. Now, shes on her own, living in a studio uptown.

About six months before the virus hit, she discovered Tinder.

And now this guy, Dick, age sixty, is living with her.

Hes my corona husband, she tells me with a giggle.

Ive seen that the New York City Department of Health has just issued Sex and Coronavirus Disease guidelines saying its not safe to hook up with people you meet online, but I dont mention it. I dont want to sound like a scold.

Sounds great, I manage to say.

Weve literally been together all the time since our first date, so how is it any different if we were married? Constance says defensively, although Ive said nothing to dissuade her from having this relative stranger move in with her.

Sounds like you are married, from how I remember it, I tell her.

Dick is still going out to work every day, she says, but when he comes back, shes Lysoling the bottom of his shoes and washing his clothes, so everythings clean.

Youre doing his laundry? I ask.

But hes doing so much for me, she insists.

Omg, Omg, no. This poor woman. Hes just using her, texts my friend Abigail when I tell her about Constance, later.

Abigail is twenty-seven and an inveterate online dater. Shes told me lots of stories over the years about dating app culture and its chilling effect on relationships.

Hes gonna be out the door as soon as isolation ends, she texts.

Thats what Id be worried about too, I text her back.

But then, who knows how any of this is going to end?

Covid-19 isnt like anything weve seen before, so theres no way of knowing what its long-term effects on dating and relationships will be. There have been reports, ever since shelter-in-place orders went into effect, that online dating has surged. Which comes as no surprise, since millions of people are now trapped at home, feeling lonely, horny, and bored, not to mention desperate and scared. Tinder reported that on March 28, 2020, its users swiped more than three billion swipes, more than any single day in the companys eight-year history.

The online dating industry has been rushing to capitalize on its newly captive audience, adding video-chat capabilities to its apps and launching new, social-distancing-friendly sites. Video dating has already been deemed the new normal by sectors of the media which always seem ready to champion the latest technological innovations in dating. The news has grown effusive in describing how online dating companies are doing their best to help isolated singles stay connected and keep a dialogue going. Ive seen pieces which read like synopses of rom-coms about people falling in love through their laptops.