You know iTunes? Of course you do, it’s iTunes. You know how sometimes when you log into your iTunes in a fairly populated area, you can pick up on the iTunes accounts of other people, and see and listen to their music? Through the magic of sharing or iCloud or something? (I don’t know how it works. Whatever.)


Today I got onto iTunes for the first time in my new college apartment, and so I see the accounts of what I assume are all the people who live around me. For kicks, I look at some of them, because I’m lonely and I crave the fulfillment of mooching off of other people’s iTunes accounts. Oh hey, a dude who listens to too much AC/DC. Look, somebody who seems to have bought every Ariana Grande song ever put into existence. And here’s a guy who—whoa.

Somehow, I’ve stumbled onto Jacob’s account. Jacob, a guy with a healthy selection of the Beatles (I love the Beatles) and all the Barenaked Ladies songs I still haven’t downloaded (I love the Barenaked Ladies). A guy maintaining a balance between Star Wars and Sia (I like both). A guy with ALL JONATHAN COULTON SONGS EVER (Jonathan Coulton is my guilty pleasure). A guy with four massive Doctor Who audiobooks in his iTunes. And not the new Doctors, either; these are all Six and Peri stories. This guy is a nerd. A nerd who aligns with me startlingly well. And I want to be friends.

But I can think of no actual way to find this guy, because this apartment building houses something upwards of a hundred people, and the privacy policies are strict. I don’t know how to go looking for someone with the intro of “I was snooping in your iTunes account and OH MY GOD WE ARE SO IDENTICAL.” I am doomed to live forever alone, mooching off of Jacob’s Big Finish Productions serials and yet never knowing the shape of his face, or his probably absurdly large glasses, or whether he lives across the hall or three floors up. I don’t know if his eyes are blue or brown. I don’t know if he’s actually a douchebag with excellent tastes or the kindred soul I will never really know. I just know that I want to meet someone who I think I’d like very, very much.

So, Jacob, if you’re a Groupthinker: the girl on the third floor of building 42 with the bad self-portrait on her door wants to meet you. I’ve made snacks. Let’s play Portal together.