Soulmate

One day, a voice in my ear said, “Alex, this is Soulmate. Stop walking. I’d like you to meet someone special.”

Rushing through the brick plaza outside Boston’s Faneuil Hall, the words almost didn’t register. I was tired and stressed from a tough day at work.

I kept moving for a few hundred feet before it dawned on me that this was the first time that Soulmate, my new social GPS unit, had ever come to life. Given to me as a gift by my concerned parents, who were almost as tired as I was of a succession of flawed girlfriends, it had spent three months sitting silently on my phone, never making a peep.

Think of Soulmate as a dating service with ESP. It broadcasts all of your interests, dislikes, bad habits, unique qualities, personal characteristics and dreams in a quarter-mile-wide circle that follows you everywhere you go.

The data is encrypted, thank God, so your office mates won’t be able to discover that you really like cuddling by the fire and giggling at bad jokes, to use a purely hypothetical example. Only other Soulmate apps can “read” the data.

Although the technology is complex, the idea is pretty simple. If you ever cross paths with a potential soulmate, Soulmate stops you both in your tracks and introduces you.

At last, I stopped.

For a moment, I actually froze. Did she stop, too? Was she staring at me now? Do I look stressed out?

I tried to look casual. It didn’t work.

Then I remembered the instructions. “Match us up,” I said to my phone.

“Excellent,” replied Soulmate. “Julia is 240 feet to the northeast of you.”

I have a bad sense of direction. “Which way is northeast?”

“Turn around and she will be ahead and slightly to your right.”

Summoning my courage, I turned around. As I did, Soulmate prompted me, “Please hold up your phone.”

Soulmate introductions often take place on crowded city streets or at parties or public events, so the service created a simple step to help people find each other. You are supposed to hold up your phone, without using it.

I took out my phone, holding it somewhat awkwardly in front of me, and started walking forward. It was dinnertime, and the restaurants and bars were filling up quickly. People were hustling across the plaza, many in groups but plenty on their own. I could see dozens of women in front of me.

Then I saw her. Julia had her phone out, too, but had an expression and pose that suggested she was debating whether to bolt before I showed up. Then she saw me, and I actually managed a welcoming smile.

“She’s 92 feet in front of you,” Soulmate said.

“Shut up,” I said, turning off my phone.

Julia was stuck now. She returned my smile and walked towards me. As I was calculating how to greet a perfect stranger my phone identified as my soulmate, Julia broke the ice. She gave me a big hug.

“Hey, Alex. I’m Julia.”

You can learn a lot from a hug. Julia was a warm and outgoing person, in great shape. A runner, I guessed, like me.

She pulled away and looked me right in the eyes, for a long time. Her eyes and her lips sparkled.

Sorry, if I don’t speed things up this story will take five years, eight months, two weeks, four days and – let’s see – 27 minutes, which is how long it’s been since Julia and I met. We have only been apart for seven nights since.

Thanks, Soulmate.