Match This! (The UnSocial Dater#1)

by Mj Fields

  “You sure you want to go in?” she asks, putting it in park.

  “Fuck no. I don’t want to go in but I have to work. It’s two in the morning and I need sleep.”

  “We still on for tonight?” she asks referring to the two men we met tonight who didn’t go running when we were total bitches to them.

  “I guess, but seriously, why?” I laugh as I gather my bag from the floor.

  “Because an actual human dick is better than a plastic one,” she laughs at me.

  “I get laid when I need to by actual penis’.” I roll my eyes at her.

  “How long has it been?” she asks as I open the door.

  “Who gives a shit,” I say as I step out. “At least I get off before it does.”

  I shut the door behind me and walk towards my house.

  When I walk in the kitchen I flip the under cabinet light switch then open the cupboard to grab a glass.

  After drinking down three full glasses of water I set it down and turn around.

  “Holy fuck,” I gasp.

  In the middle of my kitchen island, standing tall like a fucking Oscar on display, my suction cup gold flecked peen is suctioned to the granite.

  You have got to be fucking kidding me. How the hell did I forget to take care of those?

  CHAPTER SIX

  Fuck Me Friday

  If it wasn’t for the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol there is no way I would have gotten even five hours sleep. I would have chewed off my nails, tossed and turned, and dreaded the sun rising up telling me I had to face…her.

  I have been in my spare bedroom pretending to be asleep every time I hear the stairs creak knowing the Mom-ster and I would be at each other's throats within moments after I got out of the shower, if she even gave me that long.

  I lay still as I hear her footsteps stop at the end of the twin bed I am being forced to sleep in while she tramples all over my home, hell she’s even doing it at work.

  When I hear her making her way back down the stairs I quietly get out of bed and tiptoe into the bathroom. I shut the door quietly and yes, I lock the damn thing this time. Not that I don’t think for a minute she would not Google how to pick a lock on her fancy new smartphone and actually do so just to come in here to try and beat me down.

  I am dressed and standing at the top of the stairs deciding on whether to hold my head up high and walk down them like the adult I am or just say fuck it and throw myself down them to end it all. I chose to live.

  I walk into the kitchen and the peen I left on the island, exactly where I found it, is gone. I laugh to myself knowing it must have made her uncomfortable.

  “Good morning,” she says as she walks out from the laundry room carrying a basket of laundry and setting it on the island.

  “Morning,” I say as I walk to the sink to grab my cup from last night.

  “It’s in the dishwasher,” she says as she takes the hand towels out of the basket.

  I open the dishwasher and through the steam coming out at me I reach in to pull out the top rack.

  I nearly die when I see about twenty plastic peens coming out of the steam like warriors coming out of the fog ready for battle.

  I look up at her and she shrugs. “I have no idea how long it’s been since they have been sanitized.”

  “Mom.” I stop because I am at a loss for words but only momentarily. “They aren’t Darby’s teething rings.”

  I glance over to gauge the level of annoyance and shockingly she seems more amused than annoyed.

  “I know what they are, Katherine.” She sighs then shakes her head.

  “Mom, can you tell me what exactly it is you came here in hopes to find?”

  “My daughter,” she says and looks hurt when she says it.

  “Darby called yesterday,” I say as I push past the peen to get my favorite mug.

  “What did she say?” she asks as I grab my oversized unicorn mug that says ‘Being a human is too complicated, time to become a unicorn’.

  “I don’t know. Be nice to you?” I half laugh.

  “Does it bother you?”

  “Does what bother me?” I ask rinsing the cup out before filling it up.

  “That your sister isn’t pushing me away anymore?”

  “Why would that bother me?” I ask turning around to face her.

  “You and she used to have some secret ‘Hate Mom Club’.”

  “Is that so?” I laugh.

  “She went to you for everything, including to help do her hair, when she would allow it,” she says as she shakes her head.

  “You used to chase her around with a comb or brush Mom. What did you expect?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know, Katherine, for my children to love me.”

  “She loves you,” I laugh.

  “But you don’t?”

  “Of course I do Mom—”

  “Then why do you stay away? Why do you push me away? What did I do to deserve this, Katherine?”

  “The list is at least twenty years long but can all be dismissed as nonsense. Honestly Mom, just let it go, I have.”

  “Clearly that’s not true.”

  “Mom.” I feel my face start to redden. “You seriously hold on too damn tight. You need to loosen the reins. I couldn’t even climb—”

  “This is about that damn tree, Katherine? I was right. You fell and broke your arm,” she argues.

  I hate thinking about that summer. The last summer with my father, so I continue. “Private school, only certain friends—”

  “And Stephanie is still your friend,” she points out, which is not untrue.

  “I couldn’t walk to school,” I point out.

  “It was four miles away, Katherine, don’t be ridiculous,” she huffs.

  “In Albany, yes, but not when we lived in New Jersey,” I counter.

  “You were five years old,” she gasps.

  I throw my hands in the air. “Fine. You’re right, I’m wrong.”

  I start emptying my peens from the dishwasher.

  “Can we please move forward from the past? I want a relationship with my daughter,” she almost pleads, unfortunately I am immune to Carrie’s pleas.

  “How, when you continue to judge everything in my life? You trample all over—”

  “I’m never here,” she gasps.

  “And that works for us. Holidays are great and—”

  “Katherine, we’re moving back to New Jersey.”

  My whole body goes numb, my arm full of peens included, and they crash to the ground. Dicks everywhere.

  Mom laughs, she laughs out loud and it’s from deep down in her belly.

  I look up from the floor in shock. “There is nothing funny about your mother not only finding, but sterilizing your peen stash Mom!”

  “I can top it,” she says laughing as she squats down and grabs up a couple. “Mine found out I was pregnant, told the father and his parents before I could even tell him.”

  I look up and we are eye to eye. Mine to hers, hers to mine, both sets the same shade of light brown.

  “Yeah,” she smiles and nods. “This may seem bad to you, but Katherine, it’s nothing.”

  She stands up and sets them in the sink. “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Washing your…toys,” she shakes her head.

  “Why they just came out—”

  “I will back off, Katherine, but you are not going to put something in,” she pauses and clears her throat. “In your-”

  “Mom, they are gifts, a fucking joke. Jesus do you think I—”

  “I have no idea what to think. You are covered in tattoos, you’re working at a tattoo shop, and you have more,” she pauses.

  “Peens,” I fill in the blank.

  “Peens, then Adam and Eve,” she laughs.

  I shake my head. “They give them as gifts.”

  She looks at me. “Who?”

  “My friends,” I say wishing I never brought it up.

  “Because you have no boyfriend?” Before
I can say a word she says, “Have you decided you’re a lesbian?”

  “Mom,” I gasp. “I like dick. As a matter-a-fact, I love it. That’s why they give them to me. Because I love dick.”

  Her hands ball into fists and her face turns red and I laugh. “Okay, I get that.”

  “Well, you should.” I grab a plastic recycled grocery bag from a drawer to stash the peens in, and I point to her phone.

  “There is nothing wrong with moving on with my life,” she says.

  “There is nothing right with what I saw yesterday either.”

  “Well, it really wasn’t yours to see, Katherine. Just like your plastic penis collection wasn’t meant to be seen by me. But since you have brought it up, I could really use your help,” she says looking down.

  I don’t say anything. Helping my mother wade through the online dating cesspool is not something I want to do. I would rather pull out one of my own teeth.

  Her eyes are still burning into my skin, I feel it, and I don’t like it. It means she isn’t going to stop until I give her what she wants.

  I hate giving in or feeling bullied into anything by anyone. Macey is one of the worst. She would call when I was changed into my comfy pajamas and ask me to come out to a bar or club, get pissed when I would say no. Most of the time by the time I got there she was hammered and well on her way to hooking up. Now I ask the question, how long will you be there, and I say no go. If it’s a group of friends and I am not in the mood, I simply ask them what time.

  I made it work to my advantage, just like I would this.

  “Are you really moving back to New Jersey?”

  “Yes,” she says with a nod.

  I shrug. “Why?”

  “Darby seems to need a change and so do I.”

  “And Sam?”

  “He’s ready to come back too,” she says folding the kitchen towel that she had laundered. The same one I pulled out yesterday morning. I would have used it for three days, but not her.

  “Where?”

  “Just outside of Wildwood,” she says peeking up at me.

  I nod and try to act unaffected.

  Home.

  “Do you have a house in mind?”

  “I have a beach house bought already,” she says.

  “Then what are you doing here?” I ask trying not to sound like I’m not kicking her out of my house already.

  “The floors are being done.”

  “So?”

  “A week, two tops Katherine,” she huffs as she picks up the laundry basket and heads to my bedroom.

  “I’ll help you for one week, then you are on your own,” I call after her.

  She stops and turns. “Two?”

  Darby’s ‘Be nice to Mom,’ rings in my head, I nod in agreement.

  ****

  When I get to work Ricco isn’t there, the guys tell me his daughter was sick at daycare and he has to pick her up.

  “He left you two here alone?” I almost gasp.

  “And look, we’re fine and the place is in one piece,” Zack laughs.

  “Did he try to call me?” I ask looking at my phone.

  “He knows it’s a rough week for you,” Marcus says walking over to pat my head.

  I push his hand away. “Seriously you two, stop fucking touching me”

  I sit back and look at my phone, I search the Internet for advice on Match Up and the ad comes up. Curious I tap the icon and it opens. I try searching through it and all I get is MUST LOG IN. I sigh and decide screw it, why not. I can’t help the Mom-ster unless I know what I’m doing.

  The email address is the first thing they ask for.

  I decide it would be best if I used one not associated with, well me. I hit up good ol’ Google and laugh inside as I type in fuckdating, it’s denied. I think of Mom, how truly destitute she looked when she asked for my help.

  I type in onlinedatingscrewup@gmail.com and it works.

  I click back in the browser and start the free sign up process.

  Next thing I know I am answering a bunch of questions and there is no option for ‘none of your damn business.’

  RELATIONSHIP STATUS:

  Unmarried

  HAVE KIDS?

  No

  WANT KIDS?

  Fuck No

  ETHNICITY:

  Un-common white girl

  BODY TYPE:

  Sexy isn’t an option, it should be. They want slim, athletic, average, a few extra pounds.

  BODY TYPE:

  Average

  HEIGHT:

  5’6”

  FAITH:

  I laugh at this wondering if Mom still considers herself Irish Catholic or if she’s now Jewish again because she’s not doing Sam.

  FAITH:

  I leave it blank because how do you claim to be something when you’re not really and I seriously don’t want one of these jackass fundamentalists ever contacting me. I would rip them apart, and they’d probably find me. Fuck that.

  SMOKE:

  No

  DRINK:

  Occasionally

  They ask my age, where I’m from, and what age group of men I am seeking.

  I’m twenty-five, from, I pause and decide to put Wildwood, I don’t need the asshats knowing where I’m from. Seeking men 25-35.

  Then comes the rest. I fill in the requested information with a shit ass grin on my face.

  ABOUT ME:

  Harvard educated, tattoo and body modification artist. My favorite word is ‘fuck’ and the middle finger is a flag I fly without second thought or regard for what you or anyone else thinks.

  If you don’t like it, don’t bother contacting me. We are not a match.

  I was raised Irish Catholic and attended elementary school wearing the plaid skirt and flimsy cardigan. The nuns didn’t like me and I wore welts caused by their rulers daily.

  I liked it.

  CHARACTER:

  I work full time and own reliable transportation. I have my own place. If you don’t work, don’t have wheels, and live on your mother’s couch, I am not interested. Get a job and grow the fuck up.

  I am loyal to me first.

  You should be as well.

  WHAT NEVER FAILS TO MAKE ME SMILE:

  A short line at the Dunkin’ Donuts drive thru window, followed by my first cup of coffee in the morning. A drink after a hard day’s work followed by an orgasm. Unicorns and glitter.

  I AM:

  Not looking for a man to complete me. I’m looking for drama free fun during my down time.

  I giggle inside and tap my foot, which is the only outward emotional response or sign that I give to show I am happy, at work anyway.

  I look through my phone and try to find a picture of me that shows the badass I am, but not enough that it would be blatantly obvious who I am. I find a picture Macey or Stephanie must have snapped. I’m wearing a plain white tee, shades, and I am flipping them off. Perfect, nothing says back off like the middle finger.

  I set it to profile.

  I look up when the door chime sounds alerting us someone is here.

  “Hey Kat,” Granger says with a nod.

  I hit upload and toss my phone in my bag under the desk.

  “Prince Albert?” I ask as I stand.

  “Funny,” Granger laughs. “I know my dick is big Kat, but it’s not fucking stupid, once was enough.”

  “Just messing with you. Finishing the sleeve today,” I nod.

  “Sure are,” he nods back.

  Two hours later and we walk out of the room.

  “Fucking sick Kat,” Granger says as he looks at the stained glass church window on his arm. “Sick.”

  He starts to walk out as Ricco walks in. “Finish today?”

  Granger nods and drops his head. “Bittersweet man. Bittersweet.”

  I hated charging him, I tried telling him it was throwback Thursday, prices always go down on Thursday. He reminded me it was Friday and that he wasn’t stupid, which made me smile and nod.

 
; I watch Ricco look over his arm. “Sarah would have loved it man.” He gives Granger one of those half man hugs and Granger’s eyes squint shut for a moment.

  “Thanks man, gotta ride,” he nods as he steps back.

  “Be safe bro,” Ricco says in a tone that reflects Granger’s.

  Granger gives him a half nod and opens the door.

  “Granger,” I practically yell at him.

  He looks back at me. “I have an amazing idea for another that Sarah would love. Come back in two weeks, I’ll show you.”

  He sighs and it takes him a minute to nod, but he does.

  When he leaves Ricco walks over and nods. “Did a good thing Kat.”

  “Just making sure the money keeps coming in,” I shrug.

  “Bullshit. You want to make sure he sticks around,” he says scowling. “Fucked up situations like that make you realize life isn’t so damn bad. Consider yourself blessed Kat. You got shitload of talent coming out that little ass of yours, and breath going in your lungs. If you let your brain and heart do what they want instead of trying to control them, you’d be aces.”

  I look around the room and then back at him. “What?”

  “I’m at work right?” He nods and looks at me like I’m nuts. “Good, for a minute there I thought I was at church.”

  He sighs, runs his big old paw through the messy waves on his head. “You’re a bitch.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Fuck that Friday

  I am sitting at the bar with Macey minding my own damn business drinking a Jack and Coke, when she starts laughing.

  My girl doesn’t laugh unless someone falls down, gets hit in the head, there is a fight, or she sees a guy and girl fighting and the chick leaves crying or the guy hangs his head and follows her out of the bar. Some people don’t get her, hell I didn’t like her at first, but she’s the shit. She also reminds me of someone…

  “What?” I ask looking around expecting a fight.

  “You seriously that hard up for a piece of ass?”

  “Hell no,” I roll my eyes.

  She points down to my phone. “Match?”

  I shrug. “Just trying it out.”

  Not that I give a shit if I put myself out there like that, but my mom is another story. I wanna keep that crap in the closet.

  “Bullshit,” she laughs and grabs my phone. “You? No way.”