Date-switch to an Old Isreali
I am Ruhi. I was 23 and still new to the strange world of dating apps. Conversations that began with a swipe sometimes led to coffee, sometimes to awkward silence, and occasionally—like tonight—to a table in a glittering five-star hotel. The guy I had come to meet—Arjun—was already seated when I arrived. He stood up with a polite smile. He was nice, well-spoken, and interesting in the way people sometimes are when you’re still figuring them out. We talked about work, travel, and the usual first-date questions. He had an easy laugh, and for a while I thought the evening might turn into one of those simple, pleasant memories. Halfway through our conversation, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and frowned slightly. “Sorry,” he said, standing. “I need to take this. I’ll be back in a minute.” I nodded and watched him walk toward the corridor outside the lounge. For a moment I sat alone at the table, idly stirring my drink and watching the quiet movement of guests and staff around the...
