So there I am on Hinge, swiping like a modern-day Columbus trying to discover a new world. I matched with a woman named Claire whose bio simply read, "Looking for the third wheel to my tricycle." Naturally, I was intrigued. Our first chat felt like an episode of “The Twilight Zone.” We had this uncanny knack for finishing each other’s sentences, despite every word we typed being haunted by typos and autocorrect sabotage. I mentioned my favorite hidden speakeasy in the city, and she replied with, "Oh, the one with the password that sounds like a sneeze?" That might’ve been a lucky guess—because, honestly, how many speakeasies exist with a password like that?—but that wasn’t the end. Turns out, we lived in the same apartment building, just different floors. We both loved playing practical jokes on our landlords (although we had to take a break after a particularly elaborate “haunted elevator” incident). On our first date, we skipped the usual coffee or drinks and chose to go ghost hunting instead. I swear on the Holy Bagel of Manhattan, when the flashlight blinked out for a moment, I felt a cold breeze, followed by Claire whispering, "Did you hear that too?" Then the flashlight flickered back on, and there we were, standing in the dark, both convinced we'd heard a wispy voice say, "I was here first." Was it a ghost? Probably