The Not So Secret Life of Girls and the Cure

This week:

I am listening to: Tove Lo, The Sea and Cake, Drake

Pairing my cold brew with: Face peels, Bouldin Creek tacos, girl dates


The Not So Secret Life of Girls and the Cure

Back in March someone with a grainy profile picture wearing a black bowtie added me on Facebook. Sometimes I thoroughly investigate someone’s profile before I click “accept”, other times I’m like whatever.That particular day I was like whatever and skimmed the keypoints of their page. I noted that we both had ties to Harvard and made the conclusion we must have met while I lived in Boston. I didn’t  think much of this request and clicked accept.

A few months later I was adulting, Pinteresting, and Facebooking at the same time when I received a message from the bowtie.

Hi Constance,

This may sound random, well, because I suppose it is. Haha.

By chance, do you happen to be a fan of The Cure and available on Friday night? I might have an extra (free) ticket to their show here in Austin, if you’d be up for going.
My friend might not be able to go, and I should have confirmation from him soon as to whether I’ll have the extra ticket. I don’t have many other friends who would be interested in going, and I somehow had a hunch you might be, even though it’s a shot in the dark since I don’t know you.

In any case, I’m certainly intrigued by you, including having Harvard in common, and I’d like to meet you at some point.

– Benjamin


I realized that I needed to answer immediately because this person has “seen” that I have “seen” their message. Once that happens you need to answer or you’re basically  an asshole. I quickly decided The Cure sounded awesome but I didn’t know this person and didn’t think it was a good idea at the time. Plus, I had plans with my friends Aimee and Shelby that I was really looking forward to.

Me: Oh my  goodness what a bummer! I have plans for Friday. Too bad! I would have totally gone thanks for thinking of me.

^^^^(Fake AF)

Benjamin: Aww, well it didn’t hurt to try. How about meeting up some other time in the near future?

Me: How do we know each other? Just curious.

Richard: We don’t. Hence the randomness. You were a FB Friend suggestion…and you were intriguing, so I added you a while back.

The answer was in the message that I didn’t read. We chatted for a bit and I agreed to coffee that weekend. The next day the egotistical part of my brain decided that I was intrigued because he was intrigued with me  and I needed to know more. What did he find intriguing about me? Was it my picture? Was it my writing? If it was my writing, why wasn’t he running to the hills?  Something else that I obsessed over is the fact that Facebook suggests you add a new friend because you have ONE measly friend in common.  Next,  I fell into the blackhole of the internet and floated there for a while. What I find is beyond intriguing. Not to mention very,very attractive. The choice for his current FB picture was a failure. The next day I was watching some trash TV with Lexi.

Me: I mean it is kind of weird. But the internet… it’s completely normal  to connect with someone that way and it’s The fucking Cure.

Lexi: I’m like not into The Cure. So who cares?

Me: Cool you aren’t listening.

Lexi: Per yuse (usual) the story got supes (super) long and I zoned out mom (everyone calls each other mom in this friend group. I don’t know why. But recently I have been looped into the mom calling category.)

Lexi: It’s too late for you to go to the concert. You already said you couldn’t go with said stranger… so MOVING ON. No more new guys for me, recycle, recycle!

  *Swipes through Tinder*

Lexi: Constance write my Tinder bio.

I took  her phone. I typed something pretty inappropriate and hand it back to her (if you must know please ask).

Lexi: I’m keeping it.



I was hanging out at Shelby’s apartment with Aimee. It was the first real hot day of summer. We complained about the heat for a little while and then we dived into girl talk head first. Shelby’s green eyes glittered as she gushed over her new niece and Aimee flipped her hair as she gave her undivided attention to each of us. I casually mentioned the bowtie guy and the background story because he was clearly on my mind.

Shelby: The Cure? What’s wrong with you? What is actually happening here?

Me: I don’t know I didn’t know him and besides I had plans with you guys.


Shelby: It’s The Cure. Why didn’t you say so?

Me: IDK.

I looked down at my phone:

Benjamin: Hey! Any chance you have changed your mind? I know the show starts in a few hours but I thought I would try anyways. Would be great if you could make it.

Shelby and Aimee :YOU’RE GOING.

Me: Yeah but Uber and-

Shelby and Aimee: YOU’RE GOING.

Aimee: I’ll drive you let’s go.

Me: He asked if I wanted to meet at his condo and walk over to Erwin?

Aimee: Well we have his address, name, phone and we know everything about him (from when I  fell into the blackhole of the internet) I think it’s fine.

So they took me. We arrived at the condos, they wished me luck and told me to text them to make sure I’m not dead/having a good time/not murdered/having a good time.

I walked up to the condo building and he met me me at the glass door. Upon eye contact it felt like the breath had been knocked out of me. It was very strange. Then that awkward hug thing happened.

There was a man with a suit that pressed the buttons on the elevator for you. It reminded me of a movie where the rich girl comes home from an exhausting day of shopping and saunters through a revolving door with umpteen amounts of shopping bags and the door guy says , “Good afternoon, Ms. _____ !” Then his pristine white glove grabs one of the bags, then pushes the elevator button for her and winks. The rich girl goes upstairs makes a vodka martini and draws a bath.

*comes back to earth*

What was really cool about this place was the fact that it was built in the 1960’s. This place was like Holly Golightly’s apartment in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. There were tiny appliances, decorations and furniture were sparse, but a cool vibe remained.I imagined her cat with no name staring at us from on top of the refrigerator watching this meeting of strangers unfold.

Benjamin: Would you like wine? Gin?

Me: I am going through a gin phase. It tastes like Christmas.

Benjamin: How does it taste like Christmas?

Me: It does. It tastes like a Christmas Tree.

Benjamin: I have never heard anyone describe it that way.

Me: And I’m watching you make it. My friends have your address and know everything. I’m just saying.

Benjamin: Like what?

Me: Taste it.

Benjamin: I suppose it kind of tastes like what a pine tree would taste like.

Two of the walls were made of giant windows that showcased many buildings of Austin. That particular day, the buildings were nestled in a cotton candy sky and it was really lovely. If nothing ended up being memorable of my time there, I would have remembered that.

Benjamin: Okay so I was thinking. I was rather embarrassed when I randomly messaged you to ask you to go to this concert with me. I happened to remember this story from NPR. Do you ever listen to This American Life (TAL)?

Me: Yes. I really like it.

Benjamin: Well this whole experience of messaging, adding a stranger, and you calling me out got me thinking about this TAL episode from like 10 years ago. I’m surprised I remembered it.

 Me: I’m surprised you remembered it.

Benjamin: Okay, well I wanted to play it for you before we leave, is that cool?

Me: Okay…

This was weird. Ice cubes clanked as he nervously sipped his drink and I nervously sipped mine. We were sitting on opposite sides of the couch both looking straight ahead. The story goes something like this: A woman described a time when she saw a man on the cover of a magazine (who eh-em, was a writer) she felt this strange connection to this person. She found him very attractive and feels compelled to contact him. Because…what if he was her soul mate?

At this point in the story I give the side eye like “Um, okay psycho”. But really thinking “Omg this dreamboat thinks I’m his soulmate”. He laughed at that point knowing that was awkward.

Anywho, the woman decided that messaging him out of the blue would be too creepy/sketchy/weird. So she decided to make up a story, a lie of how they met in an airport and had this misconnection. She doesn’t hear anything, and then 3 months later a guy claiming to be THE guy messaged her and wanted to meet for a drink. A song by The Cure was the story’s background music…Anyways, the episode is called Mind Games, it’s from 2005 and it’s really GOOD.

Benjamin: Okay, so hear me out. Obviously I wasn’t like wow this girl (you) could be my soulmate, but I did find you intriguing and felt compelled to message you.

Me: Well and you needed someone to go see the Cure with…

The Cure was awesome and it turned out to be a near perfect night wrapped in serendipity. No proof, not much, but I saw enough. The next morning the girls group chat “salty broads” started popping off at 10am. After arguing over a brunch spot for 45 minutes we decided on Tex Mex. 3 margaritas starting at at 11am is normal, right?  I told Lexi and Mariah the story in the car because I was going to explode if I had to wait until brunch.

Lexi: He does what? That’s him? And he’s 39 years old? No way. Lock. That. Shit. Down.

Me: You already fucking knew all of this! You weren’t listening the other night.

Lexi: Totes. Who wants to drive my car back after brunch? K thanks.

After Khloe talked about her roster of romances (growing longer by the day), Lexi bitched about work (typical), and Rory (total fox)  made us all look bad by looking flawless  in workout attire I proceed to tell the story to the table at the restaurant.

Lexi: OMG please skip the NPR part.



Khloe: Don’t fall in love.

Mariah: Here we go.

Rory: Wait, how do you know this person?

Lexi: Oooooh. Haha. You are going to be mad.

Me: What????

Lexi: Well, me and this Benjamin guy matched on Tinder. Yikes! Sorry.

Me: I don’t even care I don’t even know him.

(My face switched to red in one second.)

Lexi: Haha I’m joking.

Khloe: ANYWAYS. I’m done with Eric.

Lexi: Send Eric my way. Dibs.

I looked down to see a text message on my phone from Benjamin.

Benjamin: Here’s the deal. You’re pretty fucking amazing.

My cheeks remained red, for a different reason this time. Naturally, I read the message out loud.

*Lexi rolls her eyes*

Me: I’m going to wait an hour to answer.

So, it’s gonna be forever, or it’s gonna go down in flames. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯