by Richard Fore
“Because I didn’t realize Samantha was the same girl with the button until I saw her. That black and white picture in the paper isn’t the best shot of her.”
I raise my paddle. The bidding is now up to one-hundred twenty.
“All right guys, one last bit of motivation,” says Lauren. “Samantha might seem like this nice little quiet librarian type, but she’s a little wild, believe me. Sometimes she’s lazy with her laundry and I have to pull her clothes out of the dryer. Now leopard, zebra, tiger, you name an animal print, she’s got a thong for it!”
Samantha glares at Lauren. Her blushing is almost as cute as Sabrina’s.
“Animal print underwear,” I say, continuing to bid. “Would that do it for Jimmy the furry?”
“No,” says Chris. “He’s tried it before and it doesn’t work. Paws, ears, tail, gotta be something like that to go with it.”
I finally manage to win Samantha for one-hundred sixty dollars. “Congratulations bidder number forty-two!” says Lauren. “Come backstage to meet your date. Please have your payment ready.”
“If Samantha wears a Watchmen button, how come you haven’t ever talked to her yourself?” I ask Chris.
“Well, now that I know she used to do ballet, it wouldn’t matter if she painted me blue and let me do her while she was wearing a Silk Specter costume. And to be honest, I don’t think I owe you any kind of explanation as to why I’m not going to ask out a girl.”
Standing backstage, I’m the only guy in a room filled with women. The remaining bachelorettes all mill about preparing to be put onto market, while another girl mans a table and I give her my money. I’m glad I don’t have to stand around for change and walk up to Samantha, who smiles and gives me a little wave.
“Hi, I’m bidder number forty-two,” I say.
“Ah, I like a guy who has the answer to everything,” says Samantha.
“Everything except predicting how well first dates will go, unfortunately.”
Samantha laughs. “I’m bachelorette one of twelve. But you can call me Sam.”
“Sam it is, then. But only because you weren’t seven of nine, if you had been I’d have insisted on calling you that.”
Samantha laughs again, although I’m not quite sure she understood the joke. And perhaps it’s time to place my Ben alias in reserve. “My name’s Justin. Justin Bailey. Now I’m not much of a charmer, but from what I understand you’re obligated to go out with me even if I screw up the first impression, isn’t that right?”
“That’s right. But you’re doing okay so far. But I’m surprised I fetched the price I did. I wasn’t expecting to be valued beyond seventy-five dollars.”
“I was willing to pay up to two-hundred, but if it went that high we’d have to be going someplace free like the library on our date.”
Samantha laughs again. There’s a warm glow to her, as if at any moment she may start laughing at something you’d said months ago, and by the way she was smiling you’d know just what it was. “I like to meet at a quiet place, but not that quiet.”
“Have you ever been to the Hallowed Ground coffee shop?”
“Yes, I do a lot of studying there.”
“How about we meet there tomorrow at six and go from there?”
“That sounds good.”
A quick exchange of numbers follows. “All right, I’ll see you there tomorrow at six,” I say.
I am not nervous. There is nothing at stake here. Samantha’s a dating tutorial, a remedial course to prepare for the real thing. But I do wonder if she really has a Watchmen button on her book bag.
Chapter 6: The Reason for Photo Booths
It’s hard for me to lie to Jessica, although she readily accepts my lies. I attribute this to her on/off relationship with Scott. During their initial period of togetherness he lied about being faithful. When Jessica discovered the truth she was devastated. That resulted in a breakup, the first of many. After Jessica took Scott back, he promised her he wouldn’t cheat again, and she believed him.
Not long after that, Jessica’s friend Angie told her that she had seen Scott out with another woman. Jessica accused Angie of lying, attributing it to jealousy of her and Scott’s relationship. For the next two months Jessica stopped talking to Angie, unwilling to believe Scott was cheating again. Jessica chose to believe his lies in order to continue their relationship. But when Scott broke up with Jessica to be with someone else, her friendship with Angie resumed. Jessica has since believed so many of Scott’s lies that it’s no challenge for me to lie to her now. It is hard simply because I don’t like having anything in common with Scott.
Jessica deserves to have an honest man in her life, but lying has served a higher purpose. She needs to see that I’m more than the spokesman for the unlaid, a perpetually stood-up nerd to be pitied. If no other girl ever expresses interest in me, then why should Jessica? But the charade has gone on long enough, before long Jessica will want to meet my new girlfriend Sonya. But if Sonya were to dump me, problem solved.
“She went back to her old boyfriend,” I say. A name would add validity to the fib, but what name denotes such vile he’s-a-creep connotations as Scott? How about Troy? Yes. Perfect. “A guy named Troy. He’s promised to change.” I took the name from The Goonies.
“Women can be so stupid sometimes,” says Jessica. She has no trouble saying this with a straight face, but shifts uncomfortably in her seat and takes a hurried sip of her coffee, subconsciously aware she’s done the exact same thing.
“Some can, yes. But we only went out a few times. I’m not hung up on her. I’ll learn to love again.”
“So did ya?” Jessica gives me a wink, eagerly awaits an answer.
The question is a conundrum. I must respond quickly enough to make the answer sound truthful, but at the same time want it to sound realistic. My supposed first date with Sonya was a little over two weeks ago. Early on, couples likely go out once a week on average, perhaps more frequently if there’s an immediate connection. But I have no idea how much time it normally takes for a couple to reach the stage of sexual intimacy.
Realistically, it would take me longer than average, but saying that we had had sex would be indicative that Sonya possessed a level of physical attraction to me and could ignite such passion in Jessica, jealously making her realize what she’s been missing out on. But if Jessica and I ever became intimate and she was under the impression that I had prior experience, it could lead to her attributing my sub-par performance to a lack of any natural ability on my part. Jessica raises her eyebrows as she sips her coffee. No. It’s safer to say no.
“No, we didn’t.” I consider saying that Sonya was on her period, but that sounds too fake. Too convenient. Not sure how long those last, either. But I also don’t need to sound pathetic. “Just some foreplay.” That was good. Suggests some acts of eroticism and vaguely enough so to encompass a wide variety of techniques across the sexual spectrum. Jessica appears disappointed. She would be more pleased at the loss of my virginity than I would, like a mother exaggerating the importance of her child’s place on the honor roll.
“Well, at least you got something,” says Jessica. “Now about Sonya’s boobs. Was I right about them being huge?” Jessica asks this eagerly, as Chris might inquire about the niceness of a girl’s toes, but with an underlying hint of jealousy.
Knowing where Jessica’s going with this and thinking about the last breasts I did touch, I attempt to placate her. “They were big. But they were fake. I could tell. They looked and felt very unnatural.”
“Good. I’m glad Sonya’s not packing all-natural cantaloupes and going around wasting them on jerky ex-boyfriends and shafting nice guys like you and meanwhile I gotta suffer with my little grape titties.”
I don’t understand Jessica’s need to compare herself to every other girl in the world and her total lack of self-confidence. Having the boyfriend that she has certainly doesn’t help, though. I doubt Scott has ever complimented her with even a modicum of sin
cerity.
“Do you know why you’re the perfect girl?” I ask.
“Why am I the perfect girl?” Jessica smiles, ready to hear the compliment, but is also ready to dismiss it as obligatory praise she might get from a grandparent she hasn’t seen in ages.
“You’re perfect,” I say, “because you really don’t realize how wonderful you are. You think far too little of yourself and that results in the total absence of conceitedness in your personality. You would give anyone a chance (except me). So many guys out there would wonder how they managed to snag this sweet little angel they would never have thought they could get.
“You’re the reason they make those photo booths in the mall. If a guy went into one with you, the first photo you’d take would be of you doing what you always do, flashing the peace sign and smiling your adorable smile. Then you’d make a bunch of funny faces. Then you’d pose all snuggled up next to your guy. The last photo taken would be of you and him sharing a kiss. All of the pictures would be perfect. Whoever came up with the idea of the photo booth did so because they wanted there to be lots of photographs of girls like you in the world.”
Jessica does not immediately answer. I wonder if I have gone too far, have now made it clear that I will always want more out of our relationship than she does. My grabbing her ass may mean nothing to her, but saying the wrong words could be fatal. Jessica may view cutting herself off from me as an act of mercy.
“Thank you for your kind words. I won’t start spouting off a list of flaws that prove you wrong, but I certainly could.” Jessica’s voice is calm. She seems to have genuinely brushed off my words. “I think I know what your problem is, though. You’re too Jacob.”
“Too Jacob?”
“Yeah, you’re too much like Jacob Black. He’s a character in this book I’m reading. It’s called New Moon. It’s actually the sequel to another book called Twilight. It’s this series about a girl named Bella Swan who falls in love with a classmate, Edward Cullen, who’s really a vampire. Bella and Edward get together in the first book, but in New Moon Edward leaves Bella and she’s completely heartbroken. It’s very sad.
“Then Bella forms a friendship with Jacob Black, who’s a werewolf. He’s helping Bella try to get over the breakup, but he’s also falling in love with Bella himself. I haven’t finished it yet so I don’t know what happens, but I don’t see Bella choosing to be with Jacob. He’s a real nice guy and all, but he’s more like a best friend big brother type, you know? Edward is more relationship material. I think you should read the books. They might convince you that you should be more like Edward than Jacob. Have you heard of them? They’re very popular.”
“No, I haven’t heard of them. What’s so special about Edward?”
“He’s the perfect guy. I think you should read the books so I don’t want to give too much away, but one of his best qualities is that he is very protective of Bella. He fights to keep her safe. And he writes music for her. He plays the piano and composes a piece just for her.”
I imagine Jessica jumping into bed with Seth minutes after she meets him. He plays the piano. He would be better for her than Scott. He might actually be good for her. But he is not me. “Yeah, women are suckers for musicians.”
“It’s more than just that. I’ll lend them to you if you want to read them.”
“Maybe. Maybe if Bella chooses this Jacob guy. He sounds sympathetic.”
“Maybe so, but women want a lover, not a big brother. I’ll be done with New Moon soon and then I’ll lend them both to you. And you have to read both, because Jacob isn’t really in the first book all that much.”
So Scott’s not a creep, he’s a lover. I look at my watch. Another fifteen minutes to talk with Jessica until Scott picks her up. Then thirty minutes to kill until Samantha Anderson arrives to fulfill her obligation to me. I consider telling Jessica about Samantha and decide against it. We will only have a single date. In a sense it’s even less of a date than what I was supposed to have with Sonya. She never showed but at least I wasn’t billed in advance for it.
Fifteen minutes until 6:00. Scott was his usual tardy self in picking Jessica up. He didn’t come inside, just waited in front of the window for Jessica to come out. Beyond our initial introduction he’s never really made any attempt to converse with me, not that I want him to. And I suspect that our first meeting was solely for the purpose of threat assessment, to establish that I posed no danger of ever taking Jessica away from him. He must have been duly satisfied, for since then we’ve said no more than five words to each other.
Thus far, I’ve managed to avoid hanging out with Jessica and Scott as a couple. The one time it’s come up was when Jessica and I had already made plans for the evening and she called me and asked if it’d be okay if Scott came along with us for the night because his dart league had been abruptly cancelled. Trapped since we’d already made our plans, I said it’d be okay. I waited until twenty minutes before we were supposed to meet and then sent Jessica a text saying something had come up and I had to cancel. Then I turned off my phone. I would have much preferred Jessica simply canceling on me because Scott had nothing else to do that night than asking me after the fact if he could tag along with us.
After Jessica left Hallowed Ground with Scott, I watched the two of them argue about something on the street for several minutes before they finally left. Nothing too serious, Scott never appeared ready to strike Jessica nor did it look like he was yelling, but they were having some kind of disagreement. It couldn’t have been about me, Scott may as well be a Borg drone that ignores me completely since he doesn’t view me as a threat. Perhaps I should not care so much what they were fighting about.
But since Jessica left angry, she did not turn back around and flash me the peace sign. She just walked away with Scott, ready to resume being mistreated, ignored, and cheated upon. And after insisting every sincere compliment I’d given her amounted to nothing more than empty platonic praise, the likes of which come only from the Jacob Blacks of the world, guys who beam big brother-ness and merit at most a kiss on the cheek.
Ten minutes until Samantha arrives, and I’ve yet to receive a cancellation call from her. But I know she’s coming. I’m entitled to one date with her, for I’ve already paid the ferryman. But she seemed reluctant to be at the auction at all. So how does she feel about meeting me? Is indifference the best I can hope for? I suppose it doesn’t really matter. Samantha’s going to be here because she has to be and at the end of the night she’ll say she enjoyed meeting me and insincerely say that maybe she’ll bump into me again sometime on campus. There’s nothing to be gained from this. Nothing I can learn.
I need to leave Hallowed Ground now and save Samantha the trouble of enduring spending time with me. But if I call her to cancel she’ll probably want to reschedule. I just need to leave this place and turn off my phone. She’ll figure things out for herself. She may be frustrated at first, but I’m doing her a favor, she just won’t realize it. Waiting around fifteen or twenty minutes for a date that doesn’t show is surely preferable to an hour or two of utter boredom being with a guy who’s desperate enough that he has to pay for you.
And whatever Chris claims to the contrary, I know that Samantha doesn’t really wear a Watchmen button. Perhaps she does have a smiley face button on her book bag. But if she does, it is not stained with blood. If she has one at all it’s a regular, happy, plain old yellow smiley face. Samantha does not mourn the death of the Comedian.
Before leaving, I take one last look around Hallowed Ground. If Samantha comes here regularly to study then I’ll have to start avoiding the place in order to prevent an embarrassing scene. Fortunately with Jessica back together with Scott she’ll be spending her time with him instead of me, and there won’t be much call to come here. I will miss Hallowed Ground’s root beer. But it’s better for Samantha this way.
Chapter 7: An Incident Regarding the Improper Wearing of a Bat-shirt
A woman pushing a stroller and flanked by
two other young children approaches the store counter with a CD. I’d like to believe that the mother is a gamer, but as the Minus World specializes in music, movies, and videogames, the odds are not in my favor.
“I’d like for Nintendo to give us a localized port of Mother 3 for the Gameboy Advance,” I say as I watch the woman check out.
“I’d like to give Scarlett Johansson a foot massage,” says Chris. “Sometimes we don’t get what we want.”
“Scarlett? Last time I saw her was when we went to see The Prestige. Don’t recall seeing much of her feet. Are they nice?”
“Yeah, Scarlett has the feet of an angel. And I’m not talking about an archangel or cherubim, either. I’m talking about the very highest order of angels, the six-winged seraphim, man. And as far as fantasies go, and I’m talking about actual fantasies, things that could never happen in real life, one of my favorites is Scarlett as an angel lying on a cloud in the omega position. The feet, the wings, the halo. Just perfection. I even made a rendering of her like that on Photoshop and posted it on DeviantArt. I got a lot of positive feedback on it from both foot admirers as well as general Scarlett fans.”
“I’m assuming she’s wearing some kind of low-cut white gown in the render showing off the famous Johansson cleavage.”
“No, because it’s about more than that. I wanted to show people that they need to look a little lower to see Scarlett’s true beauty. Or higher, since her feet are up in the air in this case.”
“Yeah. Anyway, with Mother 3 I think it could happen. Earthbound for the SNES didn’t sell well here, but that was before RPGs really took off in this country after the release of FF7. Now those Earthbound cartridges can go for a hundred dollars on eBay. Nintendo might localize Mother 3 here. I think there’s a demand.”
“You want to play Mother 3 you’re just going to have to teach yourself Japanese and import it yourself, because they aren’t bringing it over here. The Japanese love hoarding their RPGs. They’ve been doing it for years. Yeah, they bring some RPGs over here to give us the occasional token acquiescence. They can’t completely ignore the money they bring in.