First Dates #43: The 27th Annual Dating World Championships
First Dates #43: The 27th Annual Dating World Championships
Plus a link to a story about kindergarten
It was the final of the 27th Annual Dating World Championships, and the crowd was wild with anticipation. For the first time, Lynx’s new dater, which had dominated its heats, quarter- and semi-finals, would be facing off against Dove’s three-time champion.
The companies had invested heavily in their daters. Each was fully optimised, their brains filled with countless charming anecdotes and facts, trained relentlessly in the art of conversation. Each knew how to swiftly identify the perfect scenario for their counterpart, surprising and delighting them with unexpected wildlife encounters or detours into paintball ranges. Each had a full crew on standby, ready to clothe and accessorise them in line with the shifting tastes of their opponents and the judges, ready to whisper words of encouragement and point out any weaknesses the team had identified while the dater was otherwise engaged. Each would, in any other situation, be considered the perfect date. But on this occasion, only one could leave with that coveted title.
The crowd roared as each dater strode to the small table at the centre of the arena and took their seat. The panel of judges looked on, notepads at the ready. Then, the usual: lights dimmed, a buzzer sounded, and the audience hushed. The date was underway.
Lynx’s dater began with a charming introduction that showcased their personality and wit. Dove’s countered with an incredible anecdote about something that had happened to them on their way to the restaurant. They quickly found things in common, built rapport, each searching for ways to make sure they would be perceived as the one making the date a success. Lynx shared a story about a moment of personal devastation followed by triumph. Dove seized on the specifics to share a related narrative from their childhood. Lynx ordered a meal that was sophisticated without being pretentious. Dove ordered a meal that indicated they were down-to-earth and fun.
Each attempted to show the judges that the pair had chemistry, while making clear that they were the one responsible for it. They allowed gazes to linger, smiled gently, touched hands across the table. They rapidly found in-jokes, and massaged their stated life plans to suit the preferences of the other.
As this went on, the crowd felt the tension this tournament was famous for: the tension of two people seeking to have a great time, to present their best selves, while attempting to score points awarded by a third party. It was a competition cloaked in collaboration, opposition made possible only through connection.
Lynx fumbled when dessert came, confidently asking to see the menu just as Dove said they didn’t have much of a sweet tooth. This was a moment experts would debate for years, with Lynx’s defenders arguing that this error was not on Lynx but was, in fact, the fault of Dove, who should have said something polite, read the menu, and then decided whether or not they would order. Who was meant to be impressing who, and when, was always a point of disagreement among fans. A mistake could be interpreted as a move towards victory, and vice versa, especially at the elite level of the sport.
Lynx recovered quickly from this, requesting a virtual scenery change to a carnival. Dove could barely hide their wonder and amazement, an instant of weakness they would not be able to deny. It was clear that Lynx had struck on something Dove enjoyed. Lynx had listened. Something else was happening, far beyond the importance of dessert.
Of course, as the date went on, the crowd began to wonder whether it would end with a kiss. This was another point of contention: some believed a kiss was proof of a good date, others gave it less weighting. The question of who initiated a kiss was often discussed, with several historic matches having been won or lost with this decision. If just one dater was attempting to impress the other, that would be one thing. But each was attempting to be the greatest date, creating a mess of scenarios and possibilities. In the eyes of many fans, deciding not to kiss could be just as powerful.
On this particular evening, the crowd would not see a kiss – but not because it didn’t happen.
Instead, as they watched Lynx and Dove’s daters move through a carnival, then a night-time scuba lesson, then a gin tasting, then a go-kart race, then a pottery class, they saw something else entirely.
They saw two representatives of corporations become something else: two people. Two people who, in one another, saw the possibility of escape, of another life, of freedom. The date was flowing so smoothly that it was impossible to tell who was winning. The daters were simply having a great time. It almost seemed like they had forgotten they were meant to be competing at all.
As the date entered its final minutes, members of the audience knew that they were witnessing a connection unlike any they had seen in this competition.
So, when Lynx and Dove returned to the table, their crews standing back to give them space, the crowd wasn’t sure what to expect.
What they saw was this: the dates smiled at each other, and nodded, and stood, and held hands, then ran from the stage, up the stairs, out of the arena, and into the endless night.
This was unprecedented. The judges were split on how to award points. Several believed the date should not be counted at all, others argued they may have just witnessed the finest date in the championship’s history.
The audience was asked to go home, and informed that they would be advised of the result once a result was available.
They were never contacted, and the Dating Championships never ran again.
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A Quick Recommendation
This story, ‘Sincerely, From the Other Side of the Mountain’ by Adrian Van Young, is in The Baffler. It takes the form of newsletters, emails and other documents, tracking – of course – an incident.
Yes, an actual claw she was happy to show us, from a rather large bird she found dead in her yard. Was it un-taxidermied? It certainly was! Don’t worry, we had sanitizer on hand, though she’d managed to clean that claw off pretty well. She said it was her “feather friend”—which, given our focus on nature, is super. She put the claw up to watch over her cubby. The other kids were just intrigued! Charlotte took it down and sniffed it. “Smells like nothing,” Charlotte said.
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