“Sing me your tears, mockingbird, a mere 10 years, dancing on this earth, the sensitive boy, in the front row, with golden parents, flanking him, feels the emotions, of the novelist’s words, feels the actor’s hard work, behind the scenes, feels the injustice of a system that is broken. He’s the hope, he’s the vision of a new narrative, a new paradigm.”

As he read the poem, I kept Victor’s advice top of mind: “You only have five to 10 minutes.” So I asked Frank if he’d text me the poem, which he did. Then he asked me if I’d keep in touch. I was dropped off first and Frank disappeared into the night.

With congestion pricing in full effect in New York, and a limited budget for this adventure, I knew Frank was my best shot at a real rideshare date. So even though our age difference would typically be a red flag, I decided to go for it. We texted back and forth for a while, and in our exchanges I learned that he’s the kind of guy who spends his evenings writing letters by the fire and awkwardly uses emoticons. Normally I’d consider that strikes two and three, yet for the sake of my art, I still asked him out. He agreed, then ultimately ghosted, much like Nathan who by the end of the third season of Insecure got rebranded from Lyft Bae to Ghost Bae.

Overall, I have no regrets. I may have not found “the one” or even “the one for now,” but over those 11 rides I became bolder, more assertive, and better at pushing myself outside of my comfort zone. This weekend I even chatted up a Seth Cohen lookalike at a bar—and my DMs are officially open for business.

For those of you looking to find love in the backseat, I have a few final pieces of advice: As with dating in general, your odds will always be higher at night; people are more relaxed, less focused on work or their to-do list for the day. Try to find something in the car you can both bond over. Maybe it’s the music, something you pass by, or even their jacket. If you’re on the introverted side, talk to the driver first and fold your co-rider into that conversation, instead of trying to talk one-on-one.

But above all—heed Victor’s advice. A rideshare doesn’t last forever, even in midtown traffic.

Samantha Leach is an assistant culture editor at Glamour. Follow her on Twitter @_sleach.

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