by Tami Anthony
“I’m ready to date again,” I tell her. “I had a very traumatic breakup in February so now I’m single and ready to put myself out there.” Even though I’ve already been putting myself out there. Maybe I should just be patient and wait for the right guy to come along. Maybe Karen is right.
Selena hands me a clipboard with a questionnaire. “Sounds good to me,” she says, smiling. “I’ll just need you to fill out a client profile and we’ll take it from there, OK?” I nod my head anxiously. “I’ll be right back,” she informs me. “I just need a little coffee refill.” Selena leaves the office. I look over the questionnaire and begin to fill it out.
Name: Leslee Robinson
Age: 28
Residence: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Occupation: Freelance Paralegal
Height: 5’8”
Weight: 120 lbs.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown
Ethnicity: American
Religion: Spiritual but not Religious
Political Views: I vote for who my parents vote for
Children: Absolutely not
Hobbies: Shopping, reading, more shopping, dating, spas, going to the beach, socializing with friends, I love to shop
Interests: Designer fashion such as the works of Christian Dior, Versace, Gucci, Ralph Lauren, Manolo Blahnik, Christian Louboutin (see comments about shopping above), the justice system (my Daddy is a retired judge)
Smoke: No, thank you
Drink: On occasion (FYI: I like martinis more than I like beer)
Are you looking for casual dating or serious dating?: Is this a trick question?
What do you look for in a potential mate?: Someone who is responsible financially, has good taste, is tall and handsome, does not have bad breath, excellent hygiene, someone who’s mother is not overly involved in their life (preferably someone whose mother is either dead or in a nursing home far, far away), someone who is independent, someone with no kids, someone with their own place and who owns a vehicle
Where do you see yourself in five years?: Living in a mansion with a great career, the perfect man, and maid service
Where do you see yourself in ten years? See answer above and add brand new Bentley or Mercedes Benz to that list
After completing my questionnaire, I take a breath of relief. I’m beginning to feel really good about this now. Before, I was a little reluctant to the idea of Lonely Hearts, mainly because of Karen’s judgmental facial expressions, but now I’m feeling a little better. I’m sure there’s a man out there that can appreciate my impeccable taste in wardrobe and my willingness to humor at the most random moments. There’s someone out there who will love me for me.
“OK, Ms. Robinson,” Selena says as she enters the office. “Did you complete the questionnaire?”
“Yes, I did!” I say enthusiastically handing Selena the clipboard. She takes a seat at her desk and looks over my answers. “Some of the questions were very interesting,” I tell her. “There are some things on there that I never even thought of.”
“It’s all about compatibility,” she tells me while she continues to read my answers. Selena begins to display a look of confusion. She raises an eyebrow.
“Is there something wrong?” I ask.
“Oh, no,” she says quickly. “Nothing wrong at all.” Selena smiles at me. “So, I’m going to ask you a few additional questions, just to add more information to your profile.”
“Sure,” I answer. “Fire away!”
“OK, so what is your favorite food?”
“Italian.”
“Favorite movie?”
“Clueless and The Breakfast Club.”
“What kind of music do you listen to?”
“Everything except country,” I say. “I completely despise country. I’m more so into the girly stuff. You know, Beyonce, Britney, Christina Aguilera, Lady Gaga, Madonna…”
“Oh, OK. That’s good to know,” Selena replies as she writes notes on my questionnaire.
“I’m sorry, but I have to ask,” I start, “what in the world do these questions have to do with me finding my perfect mate? I mean, the music and political views questions on the questionnaire … I just don’t get it. Is it that big of a deal?”
Selena’s mouth drops in awe. “You have no idea, do you?”
“I have no idea about what?” I ask eager to know what exactly it is that I’m lacking.
“About dating, compatibility?”
“I do know about these things. I’m a veteran dater!” I exclaim. “A compulsive dater at that! I just want to know why simple things such as politics and music are such significant factors in dating, that’s all.”
“OK …” Selena says as she begins to think over what I’ve said. “Let’s put it to you this way. As far as political views go, you’ll never see Michelle Obama going on a romantic dinner date with John McCain any time soon—“
“Because they’re married to two totally different people,” I say defensively, “and the age difference is a little extreme, don’t you think?”
“And as far as music goes, you’ll never see Snoop Doggy Dog doing it ‘doggy style’ to Carrie Underwood or Shania Twain,” Selena says and I roll my eyes.
“You don’t know that for sure,” I say. “They all share their passion for music. Does it matter that it’s not the same genre? What happened to being open-minded when it comes to dating? What happened to learning different things from a potential mate? Isn’t dating a person who shares the exact same interests as you a bit boring?” It’s in this moment that I’ve come to realize that I’ve learned something from my dating experiences and what I’d want in a man. I don’t want boring or similar. I want someone who keeps me excited and wanting to learn more from them. I don’t want to date the male version of myself.
Selena becomes speechless to my questions. I can bet that none of her clients are like me: outspoken, individual, eager to learn. They’d have to be robots of some sort.
“You have valid points, Ms. Robinson,” she tells me, “but that’s not how our Lonely Hearts program works. We’re not cheerleaders for the opposites attract notion. We’re about compatibility and companionship.”
“Some people find companionship in their pets,” I answer. “Does the Lonely Hearts program support that?”
“Um, no,” she says. “No, it doesn’t. So, let’s proceed with the questions at hand. Are you a vegan?”
“No, I like to eat meat. I’m a stiletto-wearing carnivore.”
“Do you cook?”
“No, I’m domestically impaired. Thanks for asking.”
“Would you be against dating much older men?” Selena asks and I pause. I don’t want to discriminate against older men, then again I don’t want to date anyone my father’s age. I should set a limit, a very generous limit, but not too generous.
“Anything more than ten years older is unacceptable,” I tell her. “I’m not into dating pepaws if you know what I mean.”
“Well, my fiancé is 23 years older than me and we are very much in love,” Selena says snidely.
“Oh, my apologies,” I say. “I didn’t mean to offend you in any way.”
“It’s quite all right.”
“But you do know there’s a specific psychology behind that,” I tell her referring to the whole younger woman/older man philosophy. I can’t make out what Selena’s feeling right now. Her facial expression is in between being pissed off and sad. I might have triggered something. Way to go, Leslee.
“Um, what’s the psychology behind it exactly?” she asks.
“Well, women who date much older men generally are lacking or have lacked a father figure in their lives.” I look at the pictures on Selena’s desk. There’s not one man in any of the photos that resemble someone who could be her father. In fact, every picture I observe has women in it, no men. Not even the older fiancé that she’s spoken of. I point to a picture of her and a slightly older Hispanic woman. “Is that your sister?” I as
k. “She’s gorgeous.”
“No,” she tells me on the verge of tears. “That’s my mother … and she’s deceased.”
“Oh, no! You poor thing!” I exclaim as I walk behind her chair to console her. “This might be a bad question to ask, but is your father deceased, too?” A waterfall of tears runs down Selena’s face. I hand her a tissue from her desk.
“He left my family when I was six,” Selena says, sobbing. “Apparently my mother wasn’t good enough or young enough for him so he ran off with some 19-year-old blonde bimbo to California and made a new family with her.” I struck a nerve in Selena … a big nerve! An emotional and hidden nerve that hasn’t surfaced until now. Why, Leslee, why? I think to myself. I have such a big mouth. Of all the days, why did I have to pick today to play psychologist? And how oh how can I make this conversation about me again?
I continue to console Selena. “It’s gonna be all right,” I say like a mother comforting her child. “What you do for people, especially single women, is a very valiant thing. And I can’t wait to see what happiness you bring me,” I tell her in the most dramatic way possible. “We’re gonna wipe away these tears and focus on better things … like my dating video.” I smile.
“You’re right, Ms. Robinson,” she says as her tears wind down. She laughs. “For a second I forgot that we were brought together in a professional capacity.”
I smile again. “I know,” I reply. “I just have that friendly effect on people.”
“More like a psychological effect,” Selena mutters under her breath. “You were none too discreet in surfacing the paternal issues that I have.”
“You can’t win ‘em all.”
“Yeah …” she says slowly. “It’s almost like pouring salt on an open wound.”
I nod my head.
“Yeah, everyone has their own wonderful opinion of me,” I say. Silence. “OK, so we’re ready for the video then now that you’ve gotten that out of the way?” I don’t wait for her to answer. The excitement of being one step closer to my future husband takes over me. “OK, let’s do this!”
Chapter Sixteen
I knock on Karen’s bedroom door with my DVD in hand, the DVD that has the potential for men—successful men in the Philadelphia tri-state area crawling on their hands and knees, the DVD that may very well change my life … happily ever after! I knock again with excitement. “Karen, open the door!” I yell. She swings it opened looking tired and drained. I smile. “My dating DVD,” I say proudly as I pull her hand and rush her down the steps into the living room. “Get out the popcorn and red wine!” I shout as I scurry toward the television. Karen sighs.
“Russ! Mike! Eric!” she yells. “Get up here!” Russ, Mike, and Eric emerge from the basement looking higher than kites. There’s no guessing needed to figure out what they were doing. What a bunch of stoners!
“What’s up?” Russ asks through glassy eyes.
“Leslee’s showing us her dating video,” she explains. “The world premiere of dating doom.” I ignore her comment.
“Dating video?” Eric asks.
“It’s great!” I exclaim. “The best dating video ever made if I do say so myself.” I can see Karen rolling her eyes from the kitchen as she fills two glasses of wine.
Mike giggles profusely. “Is she naked in the video?” he asks Karen.
“No, I’m not naked!” I snap.
“Damn,” he says disappointed.
Karen walks into the living room and plops onto the couch. “Sorry, we don’t have any popcorn left because three certain potheads ate it all.” She glares at Russ, Mike and Eric. They all laugh.
“That’s OK,” I say as I pop the video in the DVD player. “My presence on screen is mouth-watering enough.” I take a seat next to Mike and press play on the remote. There I am on the screen, smiling. “That’s me!” I screech excitedly grabbing Mike’s arm.
“Oh, nice,” Karen says unenthusiastically. She could at least act like she’s showing interest in my video, but she doesn’t.
“Hi!” I say through the video. “My name is Leslee, and I’m here to rock your world.” Karen rolls her eyes yet again, but I can’t stop smiling. “I’m tall, skinny, educated, and a fashionista if you will.” In the video, I toss my hair back dramatically, my money-making move. “I’m an Aquarius, I’m independent, and I work as a freelance paralegal.”
“Unemployed!” Russ coughs and pretends to clear his throat. Karen nudges him.
“Now, men, I know what you’re probably thinking,” I say in the video, “how is a woman like myself single? Well, I think men are just intimidated by my high stature and flawless looks, but don’t be afraid. I only bite upon request.” I give a sexy chomp motion to the camera. Extra sexy! “I’m looking for a man who’s independent like me, a man who ranges in the ages of 28 and 38, who likes romantic walks on the beach, no kids, and can appreciate the class and style which is me. I’m not looking for just any man. I’m looking for a man who can handle me in all aspects: mentally, physically … financially. Men, don’t be afraid of perfection. I’m just a Cinderella looking for her Prince Charming. I look forward to meeting you.” I wink. “And if you’re curious about my outfit, my shoes are Christian Louboutin, my dress is Christian Dior, and my hair is au naturel.” I smile. “Thank you for your time.” I turn off the television to welcome the opinions of my friends.
“So, what do you think?” I ask. There are blank stares around the room. “Give me your honest opinions,” I tell them. “It’s perfect, right?”
“It perfectly sucks,” Russ says under his breath and Karen elbows him.
“It’s um …” Karen tries to think of a word to describe my video. “It’s colorful…and very you,” she says.
“Mike,” I say, “what do you think?” I ask him. “If you saw this video, would you want to date me?”
Mike begins to think in his seat. “Date, no,” he answers. “Fuck, yes.”
I groan in disgust. “You are such a pig!” I exclaim.
“What?!” he says. “You asked me for my opinion. I fell asleep for half of it anyway.”
“It’s only like three minutes long, if that,” I argue.
“Yeah, and for eighty seconds I fell asleep,” he says. Karen just shakes her head.
“It wasn’t that bad, Les,” Karen tells me. “It kinda had a liking to …” she pauses, “I don’t know. Maybe one of those late night call girl commercials and all that’s missing is the 900 number at the bottom of the screen.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I defend as I look over at Eric’s reaction. “Eric, what did you think?”
“I’m still trying to figure out why you named the designers of your outfit,” he tells me.
“So the men know that I have good taste, that’s why,” I answer defensively.
“Leslee,” Eric starts, “the only people that would care about the designer labels of your outfits are gay men that love fashion—”
“And other label whores,” Karen chimes in.
“You are all wrong,” I tell them. “It was a very fabulous, classy video that displays my personality in its entirety. I don’t look like a call girl and I am not a label whore.” I take a huge gulp of my wine. It’s not THAT bad, right? “What do you idiots know about love and dating anyway? With this video, men will be breaking down my door just dying to date me.”
Russ laughs. “Yeah, you and your Christian Lebobos or whatever those ankle breakers are called. How do women walk in those things?”
Karen sits next to me and puts her arm around me. “It’s not bad,” she tells me. “I’m sure there’s a man out there with good credit and plenty of money that will sweep our Cinderella right off her Louboutins. Some men like to be bitten by request.” Karen laughs as I pout. I’m convinced that there’s a man out there who will fall for me, and if this is true, where the hell is he?! I’ve been waiting forever for love and it has yet to find me. Maybe this video wasn’t the greatest idea, I’ll admit. But if you don’t put yourself out th
ere, how will people know that you’re available?
My cell phone rings and I pick it up from the coffee table to answer it.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Ms. Robinson?” the female voice says.
“Yes, this is her.”
“It’s Selena from Lonely Hearts,” she says and I smile.
“Selena, how are you doing?” I couldn’t be happier to hear this woman’s voice. Maybe this video is a great idea after all.
“I’m doing well, thank you,” she answers. “Listen, I showed your video and questionnaire to my male clients.”
I nudge Karen. “It’s the woman from Lonely Hearts,” I whisper to Karen and smile. “Great, Selena,” I say into the phone. “How did it go?”
“Honestly,” Selena starts, “your video and questionnaire did not attract as many clients as I had hoped.”
“Really?” I ask. “Well, how many clients did it attract?”
“Well, none,” Selena says as my mouth drops, “at first.”
“No one liked my video?” I ask as Mike and Russ laugh.
“There was one client who was on the fence about it,” Selena tells me. “At first he thought you were some sort of gold digging freak with a weird sense of humor, but then I explained to him how much of a wonderful woman you are, and then he started to become interested in you.”
“So, just one?” I ask her.
“Yeah, sorry,” Selena says. “Your video was very personable and honest, but maybe just a little too honest.”
“I see.”
“Anyway,” she tells me, “he buys and sells businesses, turns their profit around. He’s tall, handsome, very clean, great smile, wonderful personality, and he wanted to know if you were available tonight perhaps.”
I freeze in my seat. “Tonight?” I ask. “Why not tomorrow or the next day?” I need at least a day’s notice so I can pick out a respectable yet sexy outfit. A girl needs time!
“He’s a straight-forward type of guy,” Selena explains. “Very spontaneous. He said he’d love to meet you for dinner tonight around nine o’clock.” I look at the clock on Karen’s wall: 6:53 p.m. That only gives me an hour and a half to get ready. Am I capable of that? “Leslee, if you want to plan it another day, I understand, but from experience, I say strike while the iron’s hot. What if tomorrow he finds another woman and you lose your chance?” I hate it when other people are right. She is right, though. I’d better strike … right now.