"So, are you going to show me?" Jessica asked, her black pupils expanding. Her eyes made me want to reference Despicable Me, but her jagged jaw gave me warrior princess vibes and told me that it wasn't a smart idea.

As I sat in my 400 square foot apartment, I was not sure how to answer Jessica. My mind wondered as she watched me intently over the video chat, sipping her glass of merlot. I would have never dreamed of a first date like this, but 2020 became my year of shattered expectations. After feeling bored, lonely, and bored again, I decided to give a social media dating app a chance.

I was surprised and excited when according to the algorithm gods, my match was Jessica. I actually met Jessica a year before and was astounded that she was using a dating app. Well, I claim I met Jessica, but it's more accurate to say she met me. On a random Tuesday evening in 2019, I ran like hell against the soundtrack of a fitness class instructor's shouts. I wanted to clear my head after stuttering through a budget presentation with top executives at my accounting firm.

"You're a showoff. And a jerk." Jessica said when the instructor proposed a neighborly high-five. She must have seen my perplexed expression because she grinned before telling me it was a joke. With a smile at the corner of her mouth, Jessica wondered aloud. "When did it become acceptable to outrun the girl next to you?"

We spoke for an hour at the smoothie bar after that. The guy she went to classes with on Thursdays, whom I mistook for her boyfriend, turned out to be her brother. We found that we both liked and disliked the same coaches and chose classes based on the music of each trainer. We exchanged a few text messages over the next few days and agreed to meet at the studio. But life got in the way, and we lost touch.

Jessica's voice brought me back to the moment.

"It looks funky from here. I don't know if you can really call it a bachelor's pad, but you know the camera always lies. You have to describe your apartment. What does it look like?"

I asked myself if I should talk about the brown and white wood cabinets, which held strong since the 80s, except a bubble or two from water damage. I even considered discussing the neighbors who were always fighting with each other, but that didn't seem appropriate.

"Well, my walls are blue."

She whispered, "I know, how hideous." Her whispers turned into laughter as she said, "Yuck. Tell me your landlord is a prick and refuses to paint, or you were forced to pick the color under duress. Whatever you do, don't tell me you made that choice willingly."

"Hey. Hey. Hey. I'm insulted," I muttered while turning to inspect the walls I adored. "I'm a fire sign. I find water or anything that reminds me of water, like my blue walls, to be soothing. So, I went with baby blue. It's the oceans of the Bahamas. I think it's nice."

Jessica's nose scrunched up, making me chuckle.

"It's ugly, isn't it?" I confessed grudgingly.

Her sniggers drowned out her voice as she squeaked out, "yeah." We both laughed for what seemed like hours.

"Okay. I've shown you mine. Please show me yours." I redirected the conversation.

"Why do all men have trouble with foreplay? Always quick to move on when things are going good," She teased.

Jessica turned the camera around so I could see the well-lit open space. The living room resembled a department store floor, with the latest and greatest furniture on display. To her right was a white square cubby filled with books, real plants, picture frames, a chess set, and little knick-knacks. The beige walls complemented the gray wood floors.

"Is that a green couch?" I asked as she panned the camera to the center of the room.

"Indeed, it is." She said it matter-of-factly.

"What did you have to say about my blue walls?" I asked, hoping to restore an ounce of my pride, but my gloating did not last.

"You don't know style, my friend. The sofa is an elegant piece. It tells a modern-day tale. The green couch, along with the golden legs, gives the room the right accent." She retorted.

She was right, I had to admit. The room looked like a professional had designed it. When Jessica went to the kitchen, I realized how long she must have spent working on the apartment. The kitchen transported me to William Sonoma.

"Talk to me about all the wine I'm seeing. Are you..." I whispered softly as if not wanting to be overheard "an alcoholic?"

We both laughed at the joke. She made the cutest snort ever.

"I expected this to be weird, but I think all first dates should be on camera," I continued. "Thank you Zoom. We are laying it all out on the table upfront. You have a drinking problem. I have a fantastic sense of color and style, but maybe poor judgment when it comes to women..."

"How rude." She said, mimicking a toddler. "You'll never be invited over to try one of these delectable wines ever."

Jessica opened a wine refrigerator and took out a bottle, which she held up to the camera. "This is a Gewürztraminer, and it's my personal favorite. If we ever go on a real date, and the keyword here is if. As in, Mr. Iffy, I'm not sure how I feel about you right now. But if we do, keep that in mind."

"Is that the sweet one?" I asked.

"It's so good. But yes, it's so sweet," She practically screamed.

"I've found that I don't like sweet wines."

"You keep losing points, buddy." She said with a smile. "What do you enjoy?"

"Sweet but not overly so. Something sparkling, maybe red."

"Then you'd like Lambrusco. You have to pick up a bottle so I can watch you try it next time."

I made a mental note that she believed we would connect at another time.

"How did you learn so much about wine?" I wondered out loud.

"One night in college, my roommate and I were drinking cheap wine. We were confident we could make our own after realizing how bad it was. We purchased a wine-making kit and experimented. The first few bottles were tainted with sulfur, but they tasted alright. I'm not a winemaker, so that's a given. But it was then that I fell in love with wine. I've been a Bright Cellars subscriber for a while now, and they also have a lot of details about their wines. This Petite Sirah that they sent me was fantastic," she said while taking out another bottle.

"Oh, I know. If you go to their website and take a test, they'll tell us if we are compatible based on our wine preferences".

"Really?" I asked.

"No. That was a joke. But, you will get some awesome wine options."

We spent the remainder of the evening telling each other stories about our adventures with adult beverages, which led to stories about times we'd rather forget. We laughed some more and talked about some of the most daring things we'd ever done. Finally, we arranged a second date. The simplicity with which we communicated made me feel as though I had known Jessica since I was a kid. While so many days in 2020 felt like a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, my first date with Jessica was an incredible spark of joy.