Authors: Christina C Jones
These bouts of melancholy were a habit for me at this point. A predictable pattern of languishing in my own misery for weeks at a time, to accomplish… what? The only things I’d gained were a few pounds from over-indulging on wine and ice cream, and clogged pores from not exfoliating properly. I could rationalize the hell out of a bad decision, but
this
? Wallowing in pity was something that I couldn’t justify, not anymore. When I signed the documents finalizing my divorce, I told myself I would focus on being
happily
single. Sure, I was single, but where the hell was the happy? I was still in the same damn place I was in before — the doldrums.
Looking in the mirror again, I met Mel’s eyes with my own. “I’m gonna need longer than thirty minutes.”
I put her in charge of finding something for me to wear, and got to work. I conditioned and detangled my hair, exfoliated and moisturized my face, and took the longest, hottest shower of my life before pampering my skin with body butter, and pulling on the clothes Mel had left. After a bit of makeup to help the dark circles under my eyes, I thought I looked good, and in turn, I
felt
good.
I opened the door to find Mel sitting on the edge of my bed, occupied with her smartphone. She gave me a sideways glance, looked back at her screen, then furrowed her brow as she turned to me again. Mel’s eyes widened as she stood up, and as she approached me, her eyes were welling with tears.
“Tee…,” she sniffled as she pulled me into a tight hug, nearly causing both of us to topple over on our heels. “Welcome back, sis.”
“What are you talking about, Mel?”
She let me go, and sat down again on the edge of the bed. “I was starting to worry about you, Tori. I know sometimes you have your little pity party spells, but this time was almost a
month
. You sold your business, you only talk to your friends enough to keep them from worrying, and you were getting fat—”
“I was
not
getting fat.”
Mel lifted an eyebrow. “Girl, you’re wearing your ‘fat’ jeans right now, don’t front. I didn’t want to get you upset about not fitting in your other ones, so I gave you those. But back to my point, you were in bad shape, and I was fully prepared to
literally
drag you out of this house. I’m glad to see I don’t have to do that,” she said, smiling at me as I sat down on the bed beside her. She fluffed my hair, then adjusted the collar of my shirt. “
This
is the Tori I like to see. Do you know I much I looked up to you, growing up? How much I still do? You know me, I wear my emotions like a hot pink fur,
everybody
is going to see that shit. But you.. You’re usually so peaceful, and put together that seeing you when you’re not… it’s kinda scary, Tee.”
“I’m sorry I scared you, sis. But, you’ve gotta know that a lot — hell,
most
— of the time, when you see me outwardly calm, while everything is going to shit… that’s a front. I’m just good at it… usually,” I added with a smile. “But I don’t recommend that. I mean,
look at me.
I spend all of my time managing relationships for other people. I get invested as if I’m in the relationship too, so much I end up with sensory overload. I don’t know why I couldn’t see it before, but it’s like having a constant flood of emotions — and I don’t mean
yours
alone, but sometimes six, eight, ten other people— poured through a sieve. Filling you up, but draining you at the same time and it’s freaking exhausting. But I bore it with a smile, because I didn’t need anybody fussing over me, and I loved it… or, I thought I did.” I shrugged. “I think with the experiences I’ve had, it’s not healthy for me anymore.”
Mel tilted her head to the side, resting her chin against the back of her hand. “Are you saying you don’t think matchmaking is healthy for you, or… you don’t think
love
is healthy for you anymore?
I sighed as I bit the inside of my bottom lip. “I don’t know… maybe both. And I
don’t
want to hear a lecture of any type about ‘not giving up on love’, or anything like that, okay?”
“I wasn’t going to,” Mel said, a little too quickly. “But… hear me out for a second, right?” I rolled my eyes as she continued. “So, you’ve been doing this matchmaking thing since you were 23, started right after college. That’s
seven
years devoted to — as
you
said— dealing with and managing other people’s emotions, other people’s relationships. Add that to the stress of starting, building, and maintaining your business, then put all of that on top of the standard bullshit
everybody
has in relationships, and … girl, you were dealt a losing hand. Over, and over, and
over.
”
That actually made sense. Maybe I kept getting stuck in the same inharmonious rhythm because I wasn’t paying attention to what was in front of me. The life I had didn’t line up with the one I wanted, so maybe I need to shuffle my proverbial cards a little before I was dealt my next hand. Perhaps, it was as simple as doing something different.
“Okay, enough talking. It’s time to have some fun, and
no,
I’m not telling you where we’re going. You down?” Mel stood, straightening her clothes as she waited for me to respond. I had no idea what Mel had up her sleeve, but anything that helped pull me out of the fog, I was willing.
“Let’s go.”
— & —
“
Speed-dating
, Mel? Really?”
In spite of my scowl, Mel maintained a smug grin as she pulled me further into the elegantly decorated venue. I was honestly surprised by the number of people in attendance, as well as the many shades of brown that made up the crowd.
“Yes,
really
. What’s the problem?”
“We’re
matchmakers
,” I hissed into her ear, flashing a smile at a tall & handsome looking in our direction as he walked by. “We know the complete randomness of speed dating is
not
an efficient way to—”
“
Shut up!
” Mel rolled her eyes, turning up her lip in disgust. “Tori, we’re not matchmakers anymore, remember? Besides, we’re here because I thought it would be fun, not to actually
for real
meet anybody.
Chill
. Breathe, Tori, breathe.”
I bit down on my bottom lip, forcing myself not to respond. She was right. I
wasn’t
a matchmaker anymore. Taking a deep breath, I surveyed the room again, accepting a glass of wine from a passing waiter. “Okay. I’m cool. But Mel… I’m not interested into doing this date thing, not right now. I’m not
ready
.”
“Then
don’t
. Have fun with it, be silly,
lie
. Just… loosen up some, Tee. It’s about to start.”
I hurriedly drained my glass of wine and took another deep breath as the host stepped into the middle of the floor and began going over the directions. A few minutes later, I was seated in a booth, waiting on my first date to sit down. While I was waiting, I decided to do as Mel suggested, and have fun with it. Speed dating lived up to its name, and before I knew it, I was on my eighth three-minute ‘date’, third glass of wine, and I was having a
blast.
This one, Eric, had the face of a teenager and the body of a linebacker. I could tell he was young, probably fresh out of college.
He took a swig from his beer, and then with his eyes placed firmly on my cleavage, asked, “So what’s your name, beautiful?”
“Jai,” I said, smiling through my tipsy haze.
He pointed to my chest. “But your name tag says Tori.”
“Never mind that. I like to be called Jai when I’m feeling a little…,” I bit my bottom lip, “
nasty.
”
“Oh, well Jai it is then, I like that. It’s sexy.”
“Mmhmm.”
Eric sat back, giving me what I was sure was intended as a seductive grin, but came across as a leer. “So…
Sexy Jai
, what do you do?”
“Career wise? Oh, I’m a pet gynecologist.” It was a struggle to keep a straight face as I watched him choke on his drink.
“Pet… gynecologist?”
I smiled. “Mmhmm. And it’s
so
wonderful. Like, you can’t possibly understand the fulfillment that comes from helping some precious child’s hamster get over a nasty case of Chlamydia.”
He frowned. “
Hamsters
can get STDs?”
“Oh boy,
can they
. Those little things hump like their little furry cousins, the rabbits. That’s why I encourage the
little known
safe sex practices in animal kingdom.” He leaned forward, his eyes bright with interest, and I had to cover my mouth to avoid laughing, and pretended I was getting choked up to cover. “But
the
saddest thing I’ve ever seen was this
poor
pet canary that had gotten pregnant by the family parrot. Poor thing had to deliver via c-section.”
“You’re kidding, right? I thought birds… laid eggs….”
“
Not canaries
,” I said, wagging my finger in the air. “It was quite an ordeal. I had a whole special on
Animal Planet
about it, you should look it up. You know, I’m going to need a man that can handle a woman with a demanding career like mine. I need to know that when I come home from a long day of dealing with dogs with yeast infections my man is gonna pull me in his arms — foul odor be damned — and let me know
I am loved
. Is that something you can do, Eric?”
When that bell rang to change partners, he couldn’t get up fast enough. I went through four more dates before the guy I smiled at earlier — tall & handsome— sat down at my table. He was a bit older than most of the guys there, with salt and pepper hair. I pegged him at maybe forty, and he was dressed in a gorgeous grey blazer that shone against his deep brown skin. He was so fine I hated to mess with him, but it was all in the name of fun.
“You said your name was Gabrielle…?”
I smirked a little then nodded. “Yes, David. Ignore the nametag, I put down a fake one in case I ran into any creepy, lying guys. But I like you… so you get the
real
me.” I winked at him, and gave him what Des and I had dubbed a “come screw me” smile. He seemed… distressed.
David cleared his throat, adjusting the lapels of his blazer. “I’ll cut straight to the chase. I’m well known, and well respected, so I need a woman who understands having a very high level of discretion. I can’t have someone out here embarrassing me, you know what I mean?”
Lifting an eyebrow, I said. “Oh, I’ve got it.”
“Great. So what do you do for a living, sweetheart?”
“I’m a professional twerker.”
At first, he smiled, but then it faltered a little when he realized what I’d said.
“Professional…
twerker
?”
“Mmhmm. I’m
sure
you’ve seen me around. I’m super popular on Instagram, YouTube, Twitter, you name it!
This ass
is well known and well respected, you know what I mean? Ooh! That’s something we have in common!”
I laughed at his stunned silence, and his quick escape when the bell rang. I was still trying to decide what my next ridiculous occupation would be when my date sat down, extending his hand across the table.
“I’m— “
“Absolutely
not
named
Thor
,” I said, smiling as I read the name on his tag. “But I do see the resemblance,
Nick
. What are you doing here?”
Nick laughed, brushing his thick blond hair away from his face. “You’re blowing my cover, Tori. And I should be asking you the same thing!”
“I’m here with my sister, she thought it would be fun. An obviously, you did too,
Thor
.”
He shrugged. “Nah, I’m legit… except for the name. You went out of business before I could come to you to meet my future ex-wife like Avery did.”
Jeez, did my heart
have
to lurch like that at the mention of his name? Just in the last week of my self-imposed exile, I’d finally stopped obsessing over him, and now here was Nick, mentioning things like ‘Avery’ and ‘wife’ in the same sentence.
Just keep it fun, Tori. Don’t even go there.
“Sorry, Nick. It was time to move on to something new, so….”
“So you came out to speed date.” He frowned at me, but his eyes were still sparkling with laughter.
“Ha-ha. You’d better be glad you know me, I’ve been terrorizing men with lies all night.”
Nick chuckled, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table. “And how exactly is that different from what most women do anyway?”
I nearly choked on my drink from laughing, clapping myself on the chest to clear my air passage. “Oh my God, that’s awful!”
“Just sayin’.” He winked at me as the bell rang to switch, and as he began moving to the next table, he leaned down to tell me, “I won’t tell Avery I saw you here. Might hurt his feelings.”
Nick was gone before I could respond, and my next date was sitting down. I
really
didn’t have the time, or emotional energy yet to focus on anything that might be left unresolved with Avery.
Focus on the fun, Tori, focus on the fun!
I played my way through several more dates, and unsurprisingly, when the event ended, I didn’t receive
any
of the little ‘want to know you more’ cards that were being handed out. As I looked around for Melanie, I thought of several ways this whole thing could have been better organized, and more efficient, in terms of which people were rotated through a certain potential pool of partners. We should have been pre-screened— to keep out people like
me
, who weren’t serious— , and placed into smaller groups, based on relationship potential. Moreover, the dates needed to be much longer than three minutes. I did like the idea of only offering contact info to the people who were mutually interested, but everyone was still virtual strangers, so it probably would have been better to incorporate some type of social media platform, where they could get to know each better. The room for improvement was huge.
“Sooo, did you have a good time?” Mel grabbed my hand as she approached, grinning, with a hand full of a contact cards.
“I absolutely
did
,” I told her with a smile. “And it looks like you did too.”
She shrugged, stuffing the cards in her purse. “There’s honestly only one I’m interested in. The rest are duds. Where are your cards?”