Turns out, I’m not so good at waiting. After a long day of conference sessions and networking, I’m still obsessing over ZodiaCupid. At least now I have my cat, Pinot, take-out pizza, and an actual bottle of Pinot. I lean against my velvet pink couch in my apartment as Pinot purrs in my lap. I finish off my first glass of wine, a celebratory drink for my first day and for remaining calm and collected about the whole ZodiaCupid disaster.
My mind recalls the two women’s words at the conference about matching with Bennett. Like that’d be fun. All he’d probably do is talk about his business nonstop, the latest features, and how ZodiaCupid is going to change the world. That’s not…wait.
That could be useful. But I’d have to match with him first, and what are the chances of that? I would need to know what animal sign he is, though that probably doesn’t matter since ZodiaCupid matches anyone and everyone. Of course, I wouldn’t tell him who I am. Or is that not ethical? But if I pay for the date? Then it’s more of a work lunch. Or a business dinner. Or a work meeting, or whatever.
If I could match with him, I’d test out the app, go on a date, and crush his ego so much that he doesn’t want to do the app anymore. Or I could be so horrible that he’d feel wary about sending any other users out on dates with complete strangers. I pour myself a second glass of wine and swirl it around in the glass.
On my phone, I tap into a press release from today to read more about ZodiaCupid.
New Dating App Matches Zodiac Animal Signs Together
By Miranda Moore / October 5, 2020 / 11:30 am PT
Move over, Cupid, there’s a new matchmaker coming to town. His name is Bennett O’Brien, and he’s created an app to help others, and himself, find love. Inspired by Bennett’s Chinese roots, ZodiaCupid is a dating app that pairs people based on their Chinese zodiac animal signs. It’s coming to an app store near you on the Lunar New Year, which happens to fall just two days before Valentine’s Day next year.
Based out of Los Angeles, ZodiaCupid is currently in beta testing. O’Brien, LA’s most eligible bachelor and Year of the Rat, is a tech-savvy entrepreneur who has helped guide other start-ups to success in his roles as founder, consultant, and investor.
Of course the founder of our new competition is a Rat, my exact opposite sign. I guess it makes sense. Rats do tend to have an inborn entrepreneurial sense. Clearly, he’s a self-made man and a natural-born leader. In normal circumstances, Horses and Rats would never be matched, but this is ZodiaCupid. Anything goes.
I could set up a date and then stand him up. No one likes to be ghosted. But that doesn’t help me. I can go on a date, order the most expensive meal, pre-order my dessert, head to the bathroom, and then never come back. Diabolical, but not strategic. Maybe I could write an exposé about how ZodiaCupid is a total scam. They’ll call me Olivia Farrow. Alisha does know someone at WhizDash. I need to match with this man, go on a date, milk him for all the information he’s got, and then write a scathing tell-all.
That’s it!
With my beta Horse profile activated, there’s only one way in. I just need to make some minor changes. I read the press release again slowly, fixating on each and every word to find ones I can use in my profile to match with Bennett. I throw in a few personal ones so that the algorithm doesn’t flag me as a bot or something.
To some it’s unpopular, but I’m a sucker for…nights in with a good book. Baseball game soft pretzels. Pinot Noir and pizza nights.
The best place I ever traveled was…Rome. They say Paris is the City of Love, but true love is actually pasta.
I’ll try anything once…like ZodiaCupid and celebrating Valentine’s Day.
He’s probably the type of person who would share the who, what, when, where, and why of his own app in his dating profile. That’s easy promotion. I wouldn’t put it past him.
I’ll pick up the tab…if you can actually tell me, in order, the Chinese zodiac animal signs.
Midway down the screen, a pop-up box interrupts my flow.
Prepare those paintbrushes, Horses! You share an animal sign with Rembrandt. You’re artistic by nature.
“Oh, look. Generic fun facts about the animal signs,” I say sarcastically. “This is where we can play to our advantage. We take the time to get to know our clients, Pinot. We don’t brushstroke their animal signs over them.” Still, I’m momentarily distracted by what Horse traits Rembrandt must’ve possessed.
I take a sip of wine. A sinking feeling whirls in my stomach. What if people using the app match with my fake profile? Then they’ll feel led on and think that the nonexistent person on the other end is purposely ignoring them. I’m not trying to break anyone’s heart. Pó Po and Auntie would be so disappointed if they knew what I was up to.
Pó Po’s advice when we were in initial discussions for me to take over Lunar Love echoes through my head. If you take on more than you can chew, you’ll choke, she instructed. I push her words out of my mind. In order to survive, we have to eat everything. I suppose it’s a small sacrifice for exposing the truth.
I feel like I’m trying to fly to the moon on a sailboat. I take a deep breath. I can’t bring love to the world if Lunar Love doesn’t exist. I tap Save on my profile and watch as more animal noises trickle in, waiting to see if a certain Rat will squeak at me.
I flip through the channels on TV to find a new distraction, landing on a docuseries about the deep sea. It feeds into my curiosity and fears. But being in the ocean is different than observing it from the comforts of my studio apartment. The distraction attempts don’t work for long. I let the episode play in the background as I continue studying the press release. Another form of feeding my curiosity and fears.
“One thing that differentiates us is that we aren’t showing images of users in the profiles. Eighty-five percent of people we surveyed preferred not to show photos, so we eliminated the need for it. We’re about personality traits, not how people look. Our concept is based loosely on the Chinese zodiac animal sign traits, but we do things our own way,” O’Brien shares. “After all, traditions were meant to be broken.”
Traditions were meant to be broken? Who does this guy think he is?
“It’s the Great Race to Lunar New Year. That’s only four months away,” I calculate. “It’s fine. There’s still time for them to fail before then.”
Pinot stares blankly at me.
“I know the Great Race is a sore subject for you cats. Oh forget it. I thought you’d at least care because a Rat is involved!”
February is our biggest month of the year with Lunar New Year and Valentine’s Day. If ZodiaCupid successfully launches then, we may not see the boost in client numbers we’re used to. We’ll need to rethink our strategy and make the most of the next few months. Lunar Love counts on that annual increase.
I grab my laptop and double-check Lunar Love’s spreadsheets. Luckily, we have enough savings to keep us afloat for about two or three more months, but we don’t have time to waste.
ZodiaCupid is running a closed beta where a few thousand lucky users can test the product early and experience most of the features ZodiaCupid will offer, with lots more additions to come. Meanwhile, ZodiaCupid is taking beta tester feedback into consideration and working on improving their product.
“We’re excited about the overwhelmingly positive feedback we’ve received so far. We don’t take the work we do lightly or for granted. It’s been a wild ride, and we’re just getting started,” O’Brien adds.
It wasn’t until the past two weeks that they announced their presence to the world with a creative social media campaign. They’ve already received over 25,000 email signups from people hoping to be accepted into beta during this campaign. If you haven’t yet found love, sign up on their website to be a beta tester and give this clever and unique dating app a try—this could be your Year of the Match Made in Zodiac Heaven!
I unintentionally clench my jaw as I read phrases like “The start-up world’s newest darling” and “Fresh concept for those looking for tradition in a modern world.” If people cared about tradition and the Chinese zodiac, they would’ve found us. Lunar Love has been here for half a century, but because we’re not some flashy new app, we get overlooked. Apps are soulless and impersonal. Love is between two people, not two avatars. Lunar Love is a business that’s built from the heart.
Another headline, “Chinese Zodiac Expert Helps Masses Find Compatible Matches,” stops me in my tracks.
“You think you’re an expert, Bennett? You’re not an expert! The only thing you’re an expert in is stealing other people’s business concepts and buns.” My shouts annoy Pinot, and he jumps off my lap, settling into the far corner of the couch.
I wander into the bathroom and rip open a sheet mask. I carefully drape the mask over my forehead, nose, and cheeks. How are they measuring success? The number of oinks and barks people receive? Messages? How are they even tracking that without knowing who’s going on dates? My skepticism remains. There’s no way this app works.
I scroll through more matches that appear in my dashboard on the app, keeping a close eye out for one in particular. “Let’s see your so-called expertise in action. You’re not fooling anyone, Bennett O’Brien!”
I peruse the profile of the Rooster that crowed at me earlier and evaluate the contents of the profile of Parker T., the owner of a hip new Italian restaurant in downtown Los Angeles. According to what he’s written, he’s obsessed with anything that has to do with Italy (especially the food) and is a proud Angeleno.
Truthfully, if our animal sign personality traits didn’t clash so much, Parker T. might actually be interesting. After all, I’m a fan of carbonara and the Italian Riviera. Clearly their system is pulling words from profiles and matching people that way. I used the word pasta in my profile. But that’s profile matching, not necessarily personality matching. I could’ve written in my profile that I despise pasta, and according to the app’s logic, based on those words alone, we still might’ve matched.
“That’s what I thought!” I fling my wineglass up in the air, and the liquid sloshes around dangerously. “Not a match, not an expert.” This wine hit harder and faster than I anticipated. I walk over to the kitchen and eat another piece of Hawaiian pizza.
Over the speakers, the narrator’s voice grows ominous, drawing my attention back to the television. A hideous creature pops out of the center of a fish’s mouth, its worm-like body looking like it’s made itself at home. As disturbing as it is, I can’t look away. Instead, I turn the volume up.
“The tongue-eating louse, or Cymothoa exigua, is a parasite that enters through the fish’s gills. The parasite severs the fish’s tongue and attaches itself, becoming the fish’s tongue itself,” the narrator informs viewers. An ice blue fish with squiggly lines on its head swims through the water. Suddenly, a small creature pokes out of its mouth.
“Ew! Pinot, look at that!” I slide the slipping sheet mask up my forehead and cheeks.
Pinot looks over at me from the couch and lets out a husky meow. Curious what I’m doing, he saunters into the kitchen and jumps onto the counter.
“This process doesn’t harm or kill the fish, though it may be slightly unpleasant for a while,” the narrator continues. “The parasite finds a way to survive in its new host by replacing the fish’s tongue and feeding off blood and mucus in the fish’s mouth.”
I open the camera on my phone and flip it to face me. With the sheet mask on and my tongue sticking out, I look and feel like I’ve officially lost it.
“Pinot, show me your tongue.” I reach for Pinot, who’s decided that the cutting board is an ideal sitting spot, but he leaps away before I can grab him.
This process is disturbingly poetic. These parasites find a fish to live in, and the fish learns to adapt to its new tongue. Meanwhile, the parasite survives because of its new host. Will Lunar Love become the fish’s tongue that shrivels up and dies because of companies like ZodiaCupid? Realization dawns. Or am I the parasite?
“Bennett, I’m gonna find you, and then I’m gonna secretly attach myself to you and survive off your various fluids,” I say. “Wait, that doesn’t sound right.” I laugh out loud at my ridiculous thoughts.
The docuseries is cut off by commercials. I see a cursive Z fly across the screen and hear the pitch I’ve read a dozen times about ZodiaCupid.
“No! They’re running commercials now? Boo!” I yell at the screen. I’m tempted to throw my pizza at the TV, but ZodiaCupid isn’t worth giving up even one slice.
Well, I have to do what I can in order to survive. And that starts with infiltrating the system to get to the founder. As my mom would say, Always know what the other side is thinking. You don’t want to be caught off guard by new information that could knock you off your feet.
It’s sink or swim.
If I can match with Bennett, I can become one with the fish and suck its blood. Okay, that’s a bit much. I’ll find out everything I can about ZodiaCupid so Lunar Love isn’t caught off guard again. Bennett is simply the fish gills.
Hours later, just before midnight, I stir to the sound of Pinot using the couch as his scratching post. I groggily check my phone for emails, texts, and ZodiaCupid updates.
There are fifteen new matches. I flip through each one, hoping for a miracle. There are a few Rats in the list. I carefully read through each profile, finally landing on one that looks promising. Could this actually be Bennett? I sit up with newfound alertness.
I like to spend my days…bringing love into people’s lives.
Wait, what? That’s my job.
My favorite books to read are…business books and nonfiction.
An entrepreneur?
The thing I care most about is…making ZodiaCupid, a Chinese zodiac matchmaking app, number one in the industry (launches on Valentine’s Day).
Bingo.
The name at the top reads B.O.B. Bob? Or…Bennett O’Brien? Apparently I’m a drunk algorithm wizard. I was able to figure out how to beat their system with a bottle of wine in me.
If this really is Bennett, there’s only one way to find out. Without a clear plan or time to overthink what I want to say, I send: Hi B.O.B., Something in the lunarsphere matched us up. Let’s meet.
I obsessively refresh my phone every few minutes in hopes that B.O.B. has responded. Finally, a message materializes below the one I sent.
Hello, Olivia. Nice hearing from you. A date sounds great.
I shudder at the thought of going on a date, but this isn’t for me. It’s for Lunar Love. I’m on a mission. Agent Olivia Huang Christenson, reporting for duty. It’s all suddenly much more real.
I tap out my response: Tomorrow too soon?