Faceless

Margarita

Margarita walked in the nightclub. Margarita looked around for her date. G.K was to wear a blue tie. That's what she typed under 'identification feature'. Margarita liked the colour blue; but all blues are not the same. The shade and tone he 'd choose (she thought) would carry useful information. She was convinced that a little detail such as ‘vividness’ of the chosen shade could reveal much about his state of mind. For example, electric blue equals passion and liveliness which means he’d be up for anything. Baby blue, on the other hand, implies romanticism so in the case of a baby blue tie she wouldn’t act aggressive. She actually just hoped to not see a dull blue-black tie. That would mean he didn’t even care about the date.

A hesitant tap on her shoulder. She turned around. G.K was waving while spelling out a word that failed to reach Margarita's ears; a word lost in the noise of the party. She couldn’t read his lips. Why did she choose 'dance’ as her ‘strong feature’ when asked by the app? Now the app's arranged their date at the nightclub: ‘Noches Salvajes’. Damn Faceless; it didn't give her a chance to clarify. Her reggaeton moves were not fine enough to impress. 

“Hey ! G.K, I Suppose...” she said over the noise.The app didn’t require information about the participants’ appearance so she had no idea how G.K would look like. She had formed a theory where people on ‘Faceless’ should either be extremely good looking or extremely non good-looking. These, she thought, were the two kinds of people tired of being judged and misjudged as a result of their appearance. An app like ‘Faceless’ could create the illusion of safety; as if postponing first impressions was making a difference. Paradoxically, she ‘d rate herself as average. 

She ran her eye over him; he looked as if dived in blue. Head to toe. He used the entirety of the blue palette for his outfit. Even his socks were blue. The possibility of a dull-blue tie was now glowing under a different light. Poor G.K. had put so much effort into his outfit. Margarita felt a bit overwhelmed but the way his shirt stretched over his torso did something to her. He nodded yes. “So we meet after all!”, she added.

She recalled the notification she got for this date: “Suggested date: G.K. Get your high heels ready!” ... she unburried her highest heels from the 00s because she assumed he ‘d like women on heels. She cringed at that. She wondered what kind of caption he got and wished she'd get a chance to ask him later on. For now she had to act like the sporty, vegan, party animal she claimed she was on her profile. She described herself as a wild party animal, she mentioned how treating herself right was one of her main priorities. There were fragments of truth in all these but what does ‘treating yourself right’ even mean ? 

“ Is this your first Faceless date?” he asked. She felt like laughing out loud but she swallowed it and settled for envisioning herself laughing out loud. “The first one, yes.” 

Actually, she went on Faceless dates after each and every family dinner. So she used ‘Faceless’ because it was supposed to attract people interested in starting a relationship. The dates were arranged by the app; the app matched the couples, the app was responsible to come up with notification captions that would attract all parties involved in a date. Now that’s science, the date ought to be successful based on algorithmic calculations; so it wasn’t her fault if it didn’t work out. And this was her answer to nosey, judgemental family members. They were more likely to empathise with failed attempts to settle down but they were not likely to accept that she did not want to settle down. Occasionally, Margarita was spending the night with her date.

Ideally, her man was someone with great understanding of her insecurities and desires. Someone who would respect her needs and never laugh and mock at her failures. The perfect match should be aware of the fact that he wipl be used as an anti-bullying device for family gatherings. Someone to save her from her family’s small talk but at the same time someone fun, someone sexy, witty and nice. G.K, on the other hand, was someone who just offered her a Margarita cocktail, announcing it was vegan.. Because her name was. . . you get it...no further explanation is needed.

She grabbed the drink from his hand and smiled playfully while driving the plastic straw towards her lips. “ Thank you G.K” . She observed him somewhat more thoroughly. He clearly didn't tick her boxes. The music got louder and they both were moving to the rhythm for a couple of hours or so. She noticed how he only ordered vegan drinks, like rum and juice rather than coke.

On the way out she shared her cheese topped chips with him and he accepted the offer saying “Yeah, only to end this joke”. Their common white lie about veganism was exposed; the first thing they had in common. She laughed with him; it wasn’t a bad joke. She still couldn't tell whether G.K ticks her boxes. She forgot to ask his full name but Margarita agreed to a second date, in a week, at a cocktail bar. 

G.K.

G.K walked in the nightclub. He was too early. There still was a whole hour until 8:00 p.m. but he needed to have a couple of drinks already when she'd arrive. Margarita. He liked this name; it had a romantic quality to it. She had to show up in heels and a flower in her hair. So cliche, couldn’t he have thought of something else? Something more original? G.K. felt scared when he got his notification:  “Suggested Date: Margarita. Bring on the music, dance it to the end of night”. 

That’s why G.K had to drink. It was the only way to 'dance it to the end of night'. It was the third rum and coke he had. He was already feeling tipsy when he saw a girl that he identified as margarita. He felt brave enough to walk to her and hesitantly tap on her shoulder. Did he remember to wear his ‘identification feature’ a blue tie? Oh, why was he even wondering? He noticed her glance running over his way-too-blue outfit, resting for a little bit longer on his light blue socks. He tried to say something to direct her attention somewhere that wasn’t his blue-sky outfit. “So glad to meet you” she didn’t seem to have been able to lip read his salutation so he fell quiet. He was unsure as to whether he actually should speak at all. This Margarita ‘party animal’ probably preferred to wild dance all night long.

In a second he heard her voice over the music “so we meet after all!” He just nodded and grabbed her hand and dragged her to the dance floor. So we meet after all ? Such a funny introduction, they hadn’t even spoken to each other before that night. The app matched them and decided they both liked dancing, neither ever consumed animal based products, they both used sea-wave sounds to sleep and appearance wasn't important for neither. No, the latter wasn’t true for G.K.

So after what he perceived as a failed attempt to approach her he slid away to the bar, even tipsier, terrified and disappointed, looking at the bartender with blank, confused eyes. He only managed to utter her name: Margarita. The bartender didn’t think of the incident as unusual. He handed him over the Margarita cocktail he’d asked for.

G.K. returned to his date, even more baffled and by the time he offered her the drink the music had gotten louder. He tried to utilize his best moves and the next couple of hours were the best so far because they did not involve talking. He was still trying not to have a rum and coke in front of her. He had lately discovered it wasn’t vegan. 

She, however, ordered cheese topped fries at the kebab house outside 'Noches Salvajes'. He was upset but relieved. She asked him whether he 'd like to have some. "Yeah only to end this joke” he said and picked one so full of cheese. She laughed! For the first time tonight. He felt so relaxed that he just gave her a big kiss without questioning this decision; the only spontaneous decision of the night. He asked her for a second date, next week, at a cocktail bar. She accepted.