There is an unfamiliar name in my book of lovers. The hardcover, cherry-red, 752-page, untitled and completely blank book was crafted by a book-binder who gave the dummy version to me after the client “went in another direction”. The vacancy of its pages foreshadowed the denouement of my first relationship and so it became a lover’s log: one per page, usually just the name, listed chronologically, with added information as deserved. “Félix?” It might not even have been his real name.
On Feeld my name is “Gattopardo” (talkative, clever, elusive). It is not “Michael the III” (writer, model, superstar), nor “Michael” (creator, worrier, germaphobe), nor “Mike” (anonymous, calculated, funny). It is certainly not my double-barreled name, which is only offered to second dates.
My experience on other apps has left me bored, disillusioned, or terrified by people’s immediacy. I’ve experimented with different bios to see if it conjures the desired results. For apps that offered too much quickness, I was forced to update my bio: “LATER not NOW”. Other times I have chosen a sentence describing my many sides, including descriptors like “friend” and “trickster” as fair warning. On my blank Feeld profile I write: “Reclusive yet outgoing.”
When people ask what I’m “looking for” I say “nothing and everything,” which isn’t an answer. A more reasonable response would be “a locally sourced, non-monogamous, long-distance-style online-relationship not measured by rapid exchange but by the qualitative benefits of communication.” What am I really looking for? Attention.
“Gutenberg” is my first match. “Gutenberg! A darling name for a child,” I joke, not realizing I had inadvertently roasted a real and not imaginary name. Why hadn’t Gutenberg chosen a nom de plume? There were rules, I thought.
Gutenberg communicates in a manner like the printing press his name recalls. Each sentence is heavy as lead and everything is in reverse. Gutenberg is in a relationship, he says, but they’re open. Gutenberg doesn’t mind if his partner has encounters. It was his partner’s idea, but when Gutenberg takes a lover it sends Partner into a state. Everything must be in secret, says Gutenberg. That’s their deal. Partner is out for groceries. Gutenberg must stop texting soon. Later Gutenberg describes their meal. I say how tasty it sounds. Gutenberg pictures us all getting along and sends a photo. I agree we all would get along. Gutenberg tells me I shouldn’t get any ideas; threesomes are not on their menu. I make a comment about open relationships requiring rules. Gutenberg agrees.
Would I like to meet Gutenberg? Not really.