Kismetology (6 page)

"Okay," I stand up. "It’s been lovely to meet
you, but I have to leave."
Before I pour your beer down your scruffy
t-shirt
.

I go round the back and into the kitchen.

"I’m off," I say to Dan. "See you at
home."

"What happened?" Dan asks.

"Let’s just say he’s not suitable," I say, looking
around for Max. I spot him and beckon him over.

"Thanks for the set up," I tell him. "But I guarantee
you he won’t get along with my mother."

"Oh. Really? He was looking forward to it."

"Tell him to enjoy his steak."

CHAPTER 10

I don’t like this dating the
relatives of friends business. It was awkward trying to explain to Jenni that
my mum had decided her father was a no go, especially as I’d been so excited
about it. And Dan has just called me to say that Max has been a bit off with
him since
the uncle incident
, and seems a bit offended that Robbie
didn’t even pass the first hurdle. So I’m going to go with something entirely
less personal—personal ads. You never know, it might be a good idea.

Saturday morning, and I’m up and out at nine o'clock to
catch the local newspapers. I drive down to the big supermarket a few miles
away, park up and go straight for the newsstand. Dan doesn’t know it yet, but
he and I are spending the day indoors, searching out some nice-sounding men
desperate enough to place a personal ad.

I pick up one copy of each paper. The bloke at the newsstand
looks at me like I’m insane, but if I’m going to do this then I’m going to do
it properly. I take the papers in my arms and struggle back to the car, trying
not to get newspaper print on my clothes. If I’m going to make Dan stay in
trawling singles ads all day, I should probably buy him a little incentive or a
thank you or something. Poor guy was still asleep when I left, he has no idea
what I’ve got in store for him yet. I run back into the store and pick up a tub
of Ben & Jerry’s each.

At least Eleanor is meeting her friends in town today so we
won’t be interrupted.

"Mornin’ Darlin’." Dan looks up at me when I come
in. He gives the newspapers in my arms a suspicious look. "Going for a
career change?"

I wish.

"I have an assignment for us today," I tell him.
"Personal ads. I don’t like this dating people we know business—it’s too
personal. And we need to look further afield."

"Do people even do personal ads anymore? I thought it
was all about online dating these days?"

"Well, my logic is that personal ads are more traditional.
Young people are going to be doing the online thing but I only need the older
guys."

"Is that a nice way of saying that newspaper ads are
ancient, so the people who place them will be ancient too?"

I can’t help giggling at him. "Not ancient, but fifty-something
would be nice."

I hand him the ice cream tubs. "Bribe."

"Aww, honey." He comes over and kisses me. "I
love you too."

"Newspapers, Dan." I thrust some towards him.
"We have a lot to get through today."

"Slave driver."

"Look at this one," I say. "These guys have
such a nerve."

I read it out to Dan. "
WLTM a sexy, blonde female
for fun and more. Size ten only.
"

He laughs.

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy? I mean, is this
dating or a swimwear competition?"

We’ve been at this for what feels like hours. Trawling
through personal ads where maybe one in every few hundred might be worth
replying to is a very long job. It’s actually kind of fun though. I’ve been
trying to figure out which ones are genuine and which ones were just placed as
a drunken dare between mates. It’s hard to tell.

And I have to admit that some of the young ones, the guys my
age, seem pretty nice. I’m not exactly tempted to reply to them myself. Not
exactly
.
But Dan is, well, Dan, and some of the younger guys seem quite sweet. Like
‘Matt’ for example: "
I’m Matt, thirty-one years old and can’t believe I
haven’t settled down yet. I want a fun, genuine girl to love and be loved by.
"

See? He sounds nice. Not that I’m going to reply to him or
anything, because I have Dan, obviously, but, well, it’s comforting to know
that there may be one or two guys out there who are right for me. Not that Dan
isn’t right for me. I'm happy with him. Of course I am. I don't even know why
I'm reading the thirty-something ads.

 "Listen to this one," Dan says. "
Six
foot four, fifty-year-old male, medium build, huge penis. Call me.
"

"I take your huge penis guy and raise you a ‘
Chubby
Charmer. I’ll charm you like a snake if you are 40-60 and have blonde hair.
’
Beat that, Dan."

"Oh easily." He winks at me. "
ME: 60,
defined, GSOH, sociable. YOU: A lady by day, a kinky sex fiend by night.
"

I laugh. "It does make you question the kind of women
who respond to these things, doesn’t it? I mean, seriously, what woman is going
to get turned on by that?"

"I reckon they’re all fake," Dan says. "I
don’t think anyone places personal ads these days, so the paper makes them
up."

"Really?"

"Come on, Mac. Would you really like to meet a ‘
Hugh
Hefner wannabe, seeks Playgirls for frisky fun, pool parties and
three-or-more-somes
’?"

"Well, not personally, but maybe there are girls out
there who have always wanted to be Playboy bunnies, and some old dude with a
Jacuzzi mat in his bath is as close as they’re going to get."

"Nah. They’re all faked."

"I guess we’ll find out when we respond to some."

"Which one are you going to respond to, the
Chubby
Charmer
, or the ‘
Previously gay forty-nine-year-old who wants a butch
female for serious relationship
’?

"How can you be ‘previously gay’? Is that even possible?"

"I have no idea."

By the early afternoon we’ve sorted out the good from the
bad, the ugly, the uglier and the downright creepy.

Some of my favourite creepy guy ads:

"
Toyboy, 30, seeks older woman of 50+ to worship.
"

"
Knight in shining armour. Ride into the sunset with
me if you are 45-50 and like drinking beer.
" Because beer is so very
romantic.

"
Paul is a 67 yr. old bachelor who likes talking
about himself in the third person and WLTM YOU. Yes, you.
" Mac is a
twenty-nine year old who thinks sixty-seven year olds should know better.

"
Nine inches (when flaccid) WLTM any age female with
a large vagina and a high sex drive.
" Eww. Just eww.

"
Gorgeous Brad-a-like, 70, seeks 50 or younger
female with Angelina Jolie’s lips.
" There are seventy-year-old
Brad-a-likes?

"
Open minded male seeks petite female. Size 12 and
above need not apply.
" Yeah. He’s so open-minded that he wouldn’t be
seen dead with any woman with an average UK waist size. In fact, I’m kind of tempted
to take my size sixteen self and arrange to meet him, just to see his reaction.

"
I’m the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. Young looking,
slim, 50 year old with smashing personality seeks fabulous female to spoil
rotten.
" No need to be modest about it.

"
Intelligent, 6ft, 60 year old, WLTM an aticulate
female for witty banter, fun and maybe more.
" Look, he’s so
intelligent he can’t spell articulate.

Well, I for one don’t know where to begin with those
dazzling choices. But seriously, what man actually believes women respond to
that kind of approach? Who went around telling men that if you announce your
penis size to the world women will throw themselves at you? And perhaps more
worryingly—is this what’s left? Is that lousy selection up there as good as it
gets? Am I on a mission for nothing here, and the best guy I’m ever going to
find for my mother is a
beer-drinking knight
, or a
chubby snake-like
charmer
? Or perhaps
Hugh Hefner’s British counterpart
?

However, all is not lost. Dan has helped me weed out some
decent sounding men. Well, semi-decent sounding, anyway. Actually, Dan mainly
spent the afternoon guffawing at stupid ads, while I was trying to find an
okay-ish man. It does leave you wondering how okay-ish men have to be to place
a singles ad in the first place, but, well, I have some box numbers to call.
Six, to be exact. Out of the stack of papers I bought, I have unearthed six men
who may or may not add up. Now I just have the unenviable task of thinking up
the best way to explain what I’m trying to do via the answerphone message you
have to leave when responding.

After Dan leaves for work that afternoon, I rehearse a
little in my head before picking up the phone, dialling the premium rate
number, and entering the personal number of the advert.

I’m through to the answer machine of Guy Number One:

"
Sincere, honest male. Young fifty. Very sexy. Tall,
fun, and good looking.
" Okay, so I have to wonder how "sincere
and honest" he is to describe himself as very sexy, tall, fun and good
looking, and I’m not entirely sure what "young fifty" means—you’re
either fifty or you’re not, right? But hey, the pickings are slim.

"Hello," I say to the machine. "My name is
Mackenzie Atkinson, and while this might seem like a strange request, I’m
looking for a date for my mother. She’s about your age, very pretty, and fits
the profile you wanted. If you’re interested in meeting to discuss this
further, please call me back." I leave my phone number and hang up. Was
that too businesslike? It was, wasn’t it? And the part about fitting the
profile was obviously made up because this dude didn’t mention what kind of
woman he wanted to meet.

I’m not sure of the etiquette when it comes to these things.
Should I wait to see if I get a response from that guy, or should I leave my
message for the other five guys as well?

I decide to call the other five men’s machines as well.
Can’t hurt to try, right? And I don’t want them to be snapped up while I’m
waiting around for some guy to respond. The more I read Guy Number One’s profile,
the worse I think he sounds, anyway.

Number two is an improvement:

"
Divorced male, 55, WLTM an outgoing 45-55 year old
lady who loves animals and spending time outdoors.
"

Promising, huh?

I leave my message for him and move on to the next four.

"
59 year old male, enjoys cruises and weekend
breaks. Come away with me?
"

If he knows Norah Jones songs, maybe he’s not too bad.

"
Attractive, youthful, 60 year old with GSOH. Would
like to meet a loyal and friendly female for fun and more.
"

I did have to wonder whether the "attractive" and
"youthful" parts are an illustration of the GSOH, but Eleanor
certainly ticks the "loyal and friendly female" box, so I think he
might be worth a go.

"
60 year old, very, very rich male. WLTM a kind and
caring woman who I can share my wealth and my years with.
" Not the
sort I would usually go for. It does leave you wondering why he didn’t just
print his bank balance out and put that in instead, but I like the "share
my years with" part. Very sweet. So I leave him a message too.

And the final choice:

"
Youthful 50 year old with all my own hair, WLTM a
fun, fearless female for days out and nights in.
" The hair bit makes
me laugh, and any days out or nights in for Mum would be mother-free days and nights
for Dan and me as well.

And there you have it. The grand total of almost a whole day
of looking through newspapers like a professional matchmaker.

CHAPTER 11

The first guy to respond is
"youthful 50 year old with all my own hair." Otherwise known as Phil.
He calls me within an hour of my message, and we arrange a nine p.m. meeting at
Belisana the following night.

Once again, I manage to be late thanks to the unforgiving
traffic. Seriously, where is everyone going at nine o’clock on a Sunday night?
Shouldn’t they all be home watching
Songs of Praise
or something?

The hostess leads me to the table Dan seems to have
designated as mine. It’s in direct sight of the kitchen, so I’m sure that Dan
is keeping an eye out in case some old boy tries anything. Knowing that Dan is
probably watching is comforting and disturbing in equal measures. But at least
I feel marginally safer than I would if I were alone with a stranger twice my
age in somewhere I didn’t know.

"Hello," Phil says, standing up from the table
when I arrive. He holds his hand out and I shake it.

"I’m Phil," he shakes my hand vigorously.
"Mackenzie, right?"

"Call me Mac," I say. "It’s nice to meet
you."

He’s quite short, I notice. And he has dark hair and dark
eyes. But you can’t have it all.

"You too. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Just water, thanks."

"Me too." He smiles at me. Hmm, nice dentures.
Seriously. If those are real teeth then I’ll eat my scarf.

He signals Holly, one of the waitresses over. "Two
waters, please. And may we see a menu?"

She nods politely and leaves.

"So, you’re after a date for your mother? That is
unusual. How did that come about, then?"

"She’s been very lonely lately. I just moved in with my
boyfriend, so Eleanor is on her own again, and I thought it would be nice for
her to meet some men, you know, have some male company." I have learnt
that the number one rule when trying to find a date for your mother is that it
is not a good idea to mention to potential date candidates that the reason you
want your mother to date him is so that she’ll have someone else’s life to
interfere in, other than your own.