A Day In Neverland

It’s a beautiful Friday morning in Neverland, Texas, and another

beautiful start to a weekend spent avoiding the looming reality that time waits for no one. Before I do anything, I open my phone to see what wonderful faces await me on Hinge. Thank God it is another 12 men in a row that “aren’t looking for anything serious because they just got out of a relationship.” A very convenient reality due to the fact we will match and share three glorious text exchanges and never see each other under any circumstance ever.

I have a pretty stacked day overall, I roll out of bed and prepare for my long commute to my start-up job. It’s the second start-up I’ve worked for in the last year but this one is different. The commute to my living room desk left me absolutely mentally drained but I am being pretty brave about it. After about an hour of staring at the screen and moving things around aimlessly on a spreadsheet, I smile to myself and decide I’ve earned a trip to Juiceland. No trip to an overpriced juice place could ever be complete without a perfectly matching workout set, even though I have done absolutely nothing to deserve it. On the drive there, I shout, “God, none of these transplants can drive!” even though I am from 1000 miles away and hit a curb twice in the process of pulling into the parking lot.

While waiting in line, a man I have matched with on several dating apps but have never once interacted with hands me a flyer for a run club he is a part of.

“Spare me!” I think while saying: “Thanks! You said 8am this Saturday? 3 Miles is a breeze!" I text my group chat of three women whom I consider the highest jury in the land to see what terrible advice we can exchange like some macroeconomic nightmare fueled by Sex and the City references and vodka crans. It is a Friday night in Neverland and what is East Sixth Street good for if not having a cluster of single women in slicked-back buns and Zara’s finest going-out-tops being the most obnoxious version of themselves in pursuit of finding the perfect two-week situation-ship.

However, it is currently a beautiful day in Neverland and Barton Springs pool is calling my name like it’s in the tune of a familiar song. I’m walking through the crowd and observing the far east cultural aesthetics sported by couples that own several AirBnBs while telling you the importance of living freely.

I settle down on my tapestry-style towel I got at the Pecan Festival and pretend to read a self- help book in the most posed position I can muster. Several yards from here is an obvious first date. A girl spilling her passionate pursuits as a niche local artist who is originally from Los Angeles, pouring her heart

out to a Digital Nomad who likes that Neverland allows him to be whoever

he wants to be for the weekend. He tells her he is sober but is privy to a

mushroom trip because it gives him an enlightened perspective to get

closer to people who are just like him. I’ve never seen a woman with less

light behind her eyes.

It’s a beautiful night in Neverland. Later in the evening, I meet my friends

at Latchkey. I’ve never seen so many people dancing off-beat on picnic

benches in my life, but there’s a man who’s only told me how much money

he makes and paying for all of our drinks, so I mind my business.

The bathroom line is through the building, and an amusement park time

frame pops into my mind before we flee the scene. I know an espresso

martini hates to see three loud prouds coming, but it’s our civic duty to

ruin the bartender’s mood by ordering them, causing a domino effect

throughout the bar with every other loud, single

woman then ordering one.

The night is filled with people just like us, a giant playpen of people running from the impending reality that one day, you can’t blame your ex, your youth won’t last forever and absolutely no one cares to listen about the start-up your dad funded on the Shangri-La patio. It’s a cultural anomaly that started long before me, a due you pay before you meet the person just as burnt out as you and begin a beautiful life in West Lake, where everything is perfect.

You sometimes may stroll back through the streets of Neverland every

once and a while and wave at the memories of your pasts like ghosts.

However, sometimes the ghost will be your still single friend John who

is 45 and living on Rainey, but totallyyyyy loves his life and doesn’t fear

dying alone.

It’s a beautiful day in Neverland, where will you fly off to?