It’s spring and this year I have money. I have a new apartment, unfurnished, just for me. A renovated apartment, with appliances and a parquet floor. Working more has its rewards, even though now I don’t have time for my polar obsessions. During Easter Week most of my friends are traveling with their significant others. I don’t want to spend the week alone and shuttered up in the house; I download an application and after a couple of days of chatting, I meet up with some guy, B, at the bar where my neighbor F is DJing. He’s late. In the meantime F introduces me to R, another friend of hers. B arrives an hour later and R has already asked for my number. B notices something odd about the situation. For a moment, they wait, one in front of the other—they both are about the same height, around six foot one, brown hair, beards. Somewhat disconcerted, they switch stools; R gives up his, which is closer to me, and leaves perplexed. The conversation with B bores me. Two days later, I delete my profile.