Pretty Fly For A Wifi

I took a big step in a new relationship the other day. I gave him my wifi password.

The sharing of a wifi password is a sacred ritual in 21st century dating. During the initial dating process most dates don’t require wifi access. You come home from the bar after meeting on Tinder and you’re too preoccupied with each other to think about your phones. Or perhaps you have them over for dinner. Again, there’s dinner to be consumed and intense conversation to be had. Perhaps awkward initial physical encounters. Even Netflix and Chill doesn’t warrant such an exchange.


Barring extraordinary circumstances, passwords are only shared with those spending a repeated or prolonged time in your house. Dinner party guests can use their data. You may not even know the name of your one night stand so you certainly were talking enough to share a complicated series of numbers and letters.

The inciting incident for our intimate moment was his desires to put some music on while we were making breakfast. Streaming Spotify, of course, is a huge data suck and thus the request was made and granted.

The courtship rituals of my parents and their parents generations used other markers as milestones. It’s no longer about going steady or getting to third base. Dating, like every other facet of life, revolves around our various technologies.

But I can’t say the relationship is too serious. I haven’t given him my Netflix password.

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