A gay priest and a queer fitness instructor with a strong interest in social justice log on to Zoom. This is not a pandemic-era riff on an age-old joke setup — it’s the real-life premise of this week’s Date Lab.

Alyse Viggiano, 30, an Episcopal priest in Alexandria, invoked religious imagery when she described her Date Lab experience as a “totally random Hail Mary in the middle of a pandemic.” Ordained at 25, she only started taking dating seriously in the past three or four years. She felt ready to settle down after pursuing her career — and then lockdown threw a wrench in that plan.

Neither Alyse nor her date, 32-year-old Lissa Piercy, a director of corporate projects and an instructor at a local gym, had been on any covid-necessitated virtual dates. Call it beginner’s luck or Date Lab magic: The Zoom date was “a great one,” according to Alyse, and it went on for about four hours. Over the course of that time, Alyse gave Lissa a virtual tour of her apartment, Lissa’s friend who was staying with her made a cameo, and a legitimate connection seemed to form quite naturally. It certainly didn’t hurt that there was immediate mutual physical attraction.

“Popping on Zoom, I was so taken. She’s very beautiful. What an honor to be a part of this date with her,” recalled Alyse. Lissa reported: “My immediate reaction was that she was super cute and I loved her glasses.” Lissa said that Alyse broke the ice by acknowledging the strangeness of sharing a meal (an order from the Dabney for Alyse, sushi for Lissa) and conversation on screen that would then be shared widely with Washington Post readers. With that out of the way, they settled into a wide-ranging discussion that touched on diversity in the media, something that Lissa is especially passionate about (previously, she managed activist poets).

“Just to be able to have that conversation felt really comfortable,” said Lissa of their exchange about representation on television. “That was a thread throughout the whole date: We kind of both spoke that same language.”

Indeed, because Lissa had been raised Episcopalian and was quite involved in the church during her youth, there wasn’t the typical learning curve to surmount when Alyse discussed her job. She routinely has to explain to those unfamiliar with her inclusive Christian denomination how she can work as a priest being a gay woman. Lissa said that Alyse prefaced her job description with, “Okay, this is kind of weird,” which Lissa interpreted as a sign of empathy. “It’s like acknowledging the weirdness the other person might feel ahead of time so that it can create a more comfortable space.”

“I don’t see it as a burden,” said Alyse of having to explain her calling to the women she dates, who sometimes have negative associations with less welcoming religious denominations. “It’s another form of coming out. It’s just another piece of who I am.”

Lissa underwent her own coming out of sorts when she told Alyse of her bipolar diagnosis and two manic episodes, “in which I hallucinated and fully lost touch with reality.”

“It was good to talk about that,” said Lissa, who is open about her diagnosis in part to help destigmatize mental illness. “I knew that she would [understand] because she’s a priest. I had no fear.”

“In a world that doesn’t usually accept mental illness as something simply a part of a person’s life, it was wonderful to talk with someone who loves herself, bipolar and all,” Alyse said.

The two also indulged in a bit of fantasizing about their potential future together. Lissa is a big fan of “The Bachelor”; Alyse is not but agreed to watch an episode with her sometime. Alyse loves to grocery shop and cook, while Lissa is more inclined to clean up the kitchen after the meal is done, suggesting complementary sensibilities.

Still, that part of the discussion remained hypothetical. “When we would mention future things [it] was very much in a way of, ‘Oh that could work,’ but no assumption that definitely will happen,” said Lissa.

Sounds like a spark, right? Yes and no, said Alyse, who was eager to meet in person (at a social distance) to figure out whether they could be a match. Lissa was similarly interested, though after a breakup in June she resolved to remain single for a year and plans on sticking to that, leaving the door open for something initially casual.

Firmly entrenched in what might be a burgeoning relationship, they agreed to get together mere days after their Zoom date. Alyse said: “We left it with: ‘Let’s meet up and see where the rest of this pandemic life takes us.’ ”

Rate the date

Alyse: 5 [out of 5]. “[During the date she] said, ‘It’s a 5! This is a 5 experience.’ I said, ‘The feeling is mutual.’ ”

Lissa: 5.

Update

Lissa and Alyse had an in-person date the following weekend, and they realized they were meant to date other people.

Rich Juzwiak is a writer in New York.