Congratulations X-Cite Bike Fan 69 XXX!

When you chose your screen name you were a young man, barely old enough to know better but still young enough to not give a fuck.  Now you’re nearing thirty and your life feels like it’s circling something uncertain.  You feel alone, profoundly so.  Even when you find a partner there’s something almost dishonest about being with them without really letting them know who you are.  Your screenname is a huge part of that.

You still post on Excitebike forums, proudly declaring your love for both the classic game and pornography that involves people performing mutual oral sex on one another simultaneously.  You do it a lot.  You do it so much that, when you get behind a computer, you feel like that person, the person who loves Excitebike and 69ing, is the real you.

So when you make dating profiles, you use that name.  When you send an email, that’s the name you use.  When you tell someone how to find you online, it inevitably comes up.

That means online dating has been pretty bad for you.  This monomaniacal focus, this singular drive behind your life, has made it impossible for you to find any kind of real human connection.

But today is a special day.  Today is the day of the Excitebike Appreciation Convention.

Today you’re going to drive to a hotel outside Boston, somewhere in Worcester.  You’re going to park your Nissan Exterra, find your way to the door and then enter a modestly sized event hall, where you’ll find a collection of people, all of them close to your age, standing in small circles, drinking from Styrofoam cups, talking animatedly.

You’ll walk past them to the lone table set up in the room and sign your name on a piece of paper, scribbling your email next to it thoughtlessly.  The young woman manning the table will look over at what you’re writing from her phone.  Her eyes will go wide.  She’ll look from the writing to your face, back to the writing, then to your face, where your eyes will lock with hers.

“Hi,” you’ll tell her, smirking at her apparent confusion.

“Uhh,” she’ll say.  “Hey.”

You’ll turn around to go, but her hand on your shoulder will stop you.

“I know you,” she’ll say, her voice suddenly clear.

You’ll turn around and meet her eyes.

“I’m Bik3grrl96.”  She’ll set her shoulders back as she addresses you, eyes set, jaw solid.  She’ll be pretty, but totally oblivious to her own beauty.  Her hair will be in total disarray, eyes hidden behind boxy frames, clearly not a fashion choice.  You’ll see her, really see her, and then it will all come to you like a flood.

“Oh.”

You’ll recognize her, her name, her words, her voice, from forums.  Nintendo fan forums, biking game forums, 69 fetish forums.  She’ll talk the way she writes, quick clipped sentences, no patience, no concern for elaboration.  You’ve always thought of her as a kindred spirit of sorts.  You never thought you’d actually find her attractive.

You won’t be able to speak.

“Come up stairs with me,” will have to come from her.  You’ll nod, wordlessly.  You’ll hold hands for the entire ride up the elevator, the walk down the hall, stepping into her rented room with its interchangeable motel sheets and shitty art.  You won’t notice a whit of it.  Her hand will move your entire body to the bed, your eyes on her eyes falling to your lips on her lips. The conversation about Houston will be yet to come, the internal debate delayed.  The next thirty minutes will turn to three days spent trembling inside one another.  It will be perfect, in perfection’s furtive way.

Congratulations X-Cite Bike Fan 69 XXX!