A Day in the Life of the Guy Who Harassed You on a Dating App

7:55 A.M.

I wake up and immediately open Bumble. I swipe until I match with a woman who writes in her profile that the “Mamma Mia!” movies are better than the “Avengers” films. I promptly send her a message letting her know that she is wrong. The “Avengers” franchise is worth $14.3 billion, and the childish “Mamma Mia!” movies raked in a measly $1.1 billion. Math doesn’t lie. I tell her she can thank me for this information by getting a drink with me tonight.

8:45 A.M.

The woman behind me in line at the café orders an oat-milk latte. Even though I already received my coffee order, I spare an extra minute of my life to educate her on the reality of the alternative-milk industry. Like many others, she’s a victim of the fake-milk lobby’s insidious marketing. Low-fat milk options actually make you hungrier. It’s the exact reason why I switched to the carnivore diet. The science is clearly laid out on a bodybuilding forum by one of my most trusted advisers, User84029402. I hand her my business card so that she can make plans to grab a drink with me tonight.

10:00 A.M.

My co-worker mentions in a conversation taking place forty feet away from me that she is sore from her Pilates class, which she describes as a “hard workout.” I sprint over to enlighten her that the definition of working out is lifting big metal objects. The facts are all out there, on Joe Rogan’s podcast, on Episode 692 with his guest Jay Leno. I scream my address at her so she can pick me up tonight for a drink.

12:10 P.M.

I eat my meat-only Chipotle bowl alone.

2:05 P.M.

I scroll through Letterboxd to find a positive review of “Ocean’s 8” (2018). I spend thirty minutes writing a thousand-word comment on how the movie ruined the “Ocean’s” series and, consequently, my life. I post it and immediately D.M. the reviewer a picture of my driver’s license with my full name and address so that they know where to find me for a drink later tonight.

5:00 P.M.

I head to the bar with my work team for happy hour. After I force my way behind the bar to teach the bartender how to properly pour an I.P.A., my co-worker shares how painful it was to give birth. I butt in and aggressively pantomime that pain is actually weakness leaving the body. I then dump a bucket of ice over my head to prove my strength. As the bouncer escorts me out, I grab his phone to add myself as a friend on Facebook. He Tases me.

5:05 P.M.

I lose consciousness. I see an angel float down from the heavens. As the otherworldly being begins to communicate with me, I launch into a diatribe on why spirituality is a farce. The angel zaps me into a void before I can give them my e-mail address.

5:45 P.M.

I regain consciousness and drive home. I quietly boil eight hot dogs for dinner while doing zero introspective work. Another perfect day! ♦