The List

by Sherri L. Lewis

  “Yeah, but it’s the truth. If they’re intimidated by it, I’d rather not be bothered.”

  Lisa shook her head. “And you didn’t answer any of the questions at the bottom to give them a better look at your personality.”

  “That’s because Tonya said men never read, they only look at the pictures,” Angela said.

  “Exactly—those are the men you don’t want. The ones that actually take the time to read your profile are the ones you’d more likely be interested in. And if you know they’re only looking at the pictures, why would you put such a yucky picture on there?”

  “Because I want them to be attracted to me for me. That way, they don’t have to be disappointed when they meet me. If I put some glamour shot on there and then show up looking like my regular self, they might turn around when they see me.”

  Nicole frowned. “Have you been doing those affirmations Vanessa told you to do?”

  Angela shrugged. “I just believe in being realistic.”

  Lisa patted Angela’s hand. “Sweetie, you must remember men are visual creatures, ruled by what their eyes can see. You have to dazzle them with your looks first, then they’ll realize how wonderful you are once they get to know you. Looks first. Personality second.”

  I didn’t like how that sounded.

  “So, you’re saying I should project some false image of myself to get a guy interested, then reveal who I really am?” Angela asked.

  Lisa shook her head. “I’m not saying a false image. I’m saying your best image.”

  “What if my best image isn’t how I look every day?”

  “I guess I’d have to ask why not. Why don’t you look your best every day?” Lisa walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed a huge brownie off the tray. She split it in half and gestured to each one of us to see who wanted it.

  I had never been one to turn down chocolate. I started to accept it, but decided I wanted a whole one. I pointed to the plate for her to pass me my own.

  Angela accepted the other half of Lisa’s brownie. “I like how I look every day. I know it’s not necessarily what guys would think is beautiful. So it’s my best, but not their best.”

  I’d had enough. “Why don’t we glam ourselves up and auction ourselves off on eBay? I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. I can see worldly women talking like this, but not Christian women.”

  “What do you suggest? I’d love to hear your plan,” Lisa said, with Angela nodding in agreement.

  I looked at Nicole for support.

  She shrugged. “I got nothing.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Lisa said. “When you come up with a better plan, let us know. Otherwise, you can remain dateless, while we put ourselves out there to be found.”

  Lisa typed on her laptop. “Check out my matches so far on eHarmony. I deleted most of them because they didn’t meet my requirements, but there are still a few I’m thinking about communicating with. I like this one the best so far. Only problem is, he’s in D.C.”

  Curiosity got the best of me. Lisa turned her computer around, and I looked at the screen. A gorgeous cutie smiled back at me. I read his profile. Lawyer, committed to God and serving in his local church. Last good book he read was The Audacity of Hope. I had to admit he looked interesting.

  “Well?” Lisa asked.

  “There has to be something wrong with him.” I looked down at the screen again. “A good-looking lawyer in the Chocolate City who can’t find a woman? Please.”

  “Maybe he’s like us. Maybe he’s looked and can’t find the right one. Maybe he’s tired of dating chicken-heads and gold-diggers and is hoping the computer will match him with someone more suited for him. Maybe he’s shy and doesn’t approach women well. Who knows?” Lisa looked down at his picture and raised an eyebrow. “I’d say it’s definitely worth finding out.”

  Angela chimed in. “What can it hurt? At worst, it’s doing research to see what’s out there and what’s available. Maybe the black man crisis isn’t as bad as we think. I’ve seen a lot of seemingly nice guys online that are successful and available. Maybe there’s more of a problem of hooking up than anything. If nothing else, it’s a fact-finding mission.”

  Nicole rolled her eyes. “There goes Angela, researcher extraordinaire. A science project for the sisters, huh?”

  Angela nodded, looking like she was proud to be helping the race. “Yeah. I like the way that sounds, Nicki.”

  I shook my head. “Sorry. I just ain’t down with it.”

  Lisa waved her hand in disgust. “Do you, then. We promise to pick nice bridesmaids’ dresses that you can wear to other events.”

  I made a face at Lisa. Nicole put her hand over her mouth to cover up her laughter, and I made a face at her, too.

  Lisa said, “Tell you what. You try your way. We’ll try our way. We’ll talk next week about who we’ve met and perhaps even had a date with. We’ll see what works. I think we should at least try to meet one guy a week.”

  “One guy a week?” My mouth dropped open. “If I could meet one guy a week, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you guys on a Friday night.”

  Angela looked intimidated, too. “Yeah, that’s a lot, Lisa.”

  “I’m not saying you have to have one date a week. I’m saying at least have some interaction with one guy just to find out what’s out there. Have a phone or email conversation. Even your silly five-minute dates. If you’re ruling out one guy a week, it shouldn’t be long before you run across a worthwhile guy. Right?”

  Me and Angela nodded slowly at each other, still not convinced.

  Lisa continued, “The main point is to get out there. Meet people, experience dating. All I know is nine years is a long time. Instead of sitting back and waiting for something to happen, I’m gonna be proactive.”

  “You’re gonna help God out, huh?” I asked.

  “I think it helps to give Him something to work with. Why make Him work a miracle by sending the perfect man to your front door? He’s out there somewhere, looking for you. You could at least do your part to make it a little easier for Him.”

  Nicole smirked. “This is gonna be rich. I can’t wait to hear the stories.”

  Lisa turned to her. “Yeah, Nicole. You get to be the judge.”

  “The judge?” Nicole asked.

  Lisa nodded. “Yeah, of whether each of us has made an honest effort or not.”

  I folded my arms. “What is this now, a game? I didn’t sign up for all this.”

  Lisa shrugged. “Fine. Don’t do it then. I’ll make sure I throw my bouquet in your direction.”

  “Where am I supposed to find a guy a week?” I whined.

  Lisa shrugged again. “Oh, I don’t know. You might want to try the internet.”

  Lisa stood and beckoned to Angela. “Come on, Angie. I’ma let you borrow a red top, ’cause it’s such a great color on you. We’ll put on some makeup—the bare minimum, and we’ll bump your hair. I’m gonna take some nice pictures for you to post on your profiles.”

  Angela followed Lisa back to her bedroom.

  Fine. She could get cute to be auctioned off on the internet like a slave. I wanted no parts of it.

  The whole discussion had me thinking, though. I didn’t have time to hang out at Lowe’s. Was always too preoccupied with getting in and out to meet someone in the grocery store and didn’t really like coffee enough to hang out at Starbucks.

  Now that I had a halfway decent list of what I wanted, where was I supposed to meet this perfect man?

  eight

  If we weren’t meeting at my house this week, I would have definitely skipped girls’ night. Of course, I hadn’t met one guy all week. I thought of making one up, but I couldn’t lie to my girls. Still, there was no way I could stand any more of Lisa’s wedding day jabs.

  It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried. There was this cute guy in the produce section at the grocery store. I’d lingered around squeezing peaches and smelling cantaloupes, waiting to see if he would talk
to me.

  Right when I got up the nerve to say something to him, his cell phone rang. I could tell the call was from the woman he loved. His whole countenance changed. Can a guy glow? He talked in a low, sexy voice and then let out this sexy laugh that made me tingle.

  And it made me sad. Sad that there was no one in my life who I made glow and smile and laugh. That there was no one who made me glow and smile and laugh. So, I grabbed a stupid melon, shoved it in my basket, and hurried to check-out.

  And, okay, so I even went to Lowe’s. I had been thinking about painting my kitchen. Really, I had.

  They were wrong when they said it was full of available men. Everyone I saw was with some woman. And they looked happy together. Excited about painting their bedroom, or building a deck, or finishing their basement. Why did they all have to be holding hands and smiling at each other? One guy was rubbing his pregnant wife’s belly as they looked at paint colors for their nursery.

  Made me sad again. I was starting to feel desperate and lonely.

  And, okay, I even went to the Starbucks in Barnes & Noble. I picked out some books to make me look intelligent and then magazines to make me look not overly intelligent, ordered some Tazo Passion tea for inspiration and sat down to read.

  I met eyes with this good-looking, brown-skinned guy. He looked like he might come talk to me, but then another guy showed up and they sat together. At first, I wondered if they were gay—this was Atlanta, after all—but the guy kept stealing looks at me, so I guessed not. The second guy pulled out his laptop, so I figured they were having a business meeting.

  I decided to wait until they were finished. If he kept sneaking peeks at me, I would take it as a sign that I could introduce myself. Unlike Angela, I wasn’t shy and had no problem approaching men. I could always play it off as networking.

  I pretended to read for about an hour—total waste of time—and they finally finished. Laptop guy left, and cute guy stayed at the table. I should have used the hour to think of a good opening line for conversation, but the thought hadn’t occurred to me until it was too late. Had to work on some witty icebreakers.

  He looked up and caught me looking at him and smiled. I took it as a sign. I trusted my brain to come up with something clever by the time I made it to his table.

  “Hi.” Yeah, that was clever. Think, Michelle.

  “Hey. How are you? You look like you got some pretty intense studying going on over there.” He eyed my stack of books.

  “Not intense. Just picking out some reading for the weekend.” Great, Michelle. Show him how boring you are.

  “Cool. You love to read. That’s a plus.” He glanced over my shoulder like he was looking for something.

  Oh my, he was a cutie. Thick lips, big eyes, and a nice athletic physique.

  He looked back at me. “Maybe we could get together sometime to discuss your favorite books and mine. You have a business card or something?”

  Wow, that was easier than I thought. “Oh. Okay. Um . . .”

  “Hey, baby.”

  I turned around to see who the velvety female voice behind me was talking to. She faced Mr. Cutie, but was looking straight at me with that why-you-talking-to-my-man look.

  I hated stereotypes, but her picture was probably in the dictionary by the entry for ghettofabulous. Her cleavage left little to the imagination, and her jeans were so tight, I couldn’t imagine how she could breathe. She was begging for a yeast infection. Her long, ratty weave was beyond tacky, and her make-up overdone. Why in the world would an intelligent businessman be with her?

  Mr. Cutie held out his hand to shake mine. “It was great to meet you and let me know how my company can be of any service to you.” He grabbed Miss Hoochie Mama around the waist and led her out of the store.

  I wondered if he feared her starting some drama in the middle of Barnes & Noble.

  As they walked away, I realized why he was with her. She had a huge round behind that made me look at God and ask Him why I got cheated. Bigger than Nicole’s, even.

  I subconsciously smoothed my hand over my backside, knowing that, although it was a decent black-girl butt, it didn’t begin to compare.

  Men. I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to say reading was a plus. She didn’t look like she’d read a book since she dropped out of high school.

  When I looked down, his business card was in my hand. I didn’t bother to read the details. Just crumpled it and dropped it in the trash. Did he really think I would be interested in talking to someone who would try to pick me up with his woman on the way? Even more, did he think I would be interested in talking to someone who would be with someone like her? Please.

  I looked down at my watch. I had wasted almost two hours on some foolishness with nothing to show for it. There had to be a better way. For half a second, I considered the dreaded online dating. At least I could do it on my time at my own leisure. But there was no guarantee it would be any better.

  Why do I have to deal with this, God? Why can’t you just send him to ring my doorbell?

  The next evening, as I stuffed a week’s worth of dirty dishes into the dishwasher, hid the stack of untouched mail in the already overflowing kitchen drawer and ordered pizza for the girls’ arrival, I had to stop and think. Was I really ready for marriage? If I was too busy to cook, do laundry and keep my house clean, how was I going to take care of a man? I would be embarrassed for any man to see my house as messy as it was. And that was the norm for me.

  Maybe my man wasn’t ringing the doorbell because God knew he would go running once he saw what was inside.

  “Pizza again? Michelle, do you even try?” Nicole frowned when she saw the Papa John’s boxes on the counter.

  “You’re welcome to fast if you don’t like what I’m serving.”

  Her eyes widened. “Raaarrw.” Nicole clawed at me as she made a cat noise.

  I knew my comment was rude, but instead of hearing her voice saying it, I heard my husband and two daughters asking me for a home-cooked meal. Maybe it was my fault God hadn’t brought him yet.

  “Sorry, girl. Had a busy week. I promise I’ll do better next time.”

  Nicole sucked her teeth. “You know I love you, ’Chelle, but you say that every time. Which is why I brought reinforcements.”

  She pulled a brown paper bag out of the huge Coach duffle she carried everywhere.

  “Fine. Whatever.” I tried to slam the plates onto the counter, but Styrofoam didn’t slam very well. I think she got the point that she’d upset me, though.

  Nicole studied my face for a second then went to answer the doorbell.

  Lisa and Angela entered. Angela took a deep whiff. “Pizza again? I should have called ahead. I could have picked up something on the way.”

  Lisa said, “That’s why I ate before I came.”

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “You know what? Next time I’ll let you heifers starve.”

  Lisa and Angela’s eyes widened, and they looked at Nicole. She shrugged.

  “And no, it’s not hormone day,” I added to my tirade. The doorbell rang again. Lisa went to get it and led Vanessa in. Vanessa stared at the pizza boxes on the counter. “Pizza again?”

  Angela, Lisa, and Nicole all held their hands up to keep Vanessa from saying anything further. Vanessa looked at them, then looked at me. I must have looked crazy, because she inhaled and said, “Smells great.”

  We all sat around my dining table. Nicole pulled out some kind of green wrap sandwich with sprouts and other vegetables sticking out of it. I bit into a piece of pepperoni pizza. Lisa sipped some ginger ale, and Vanessa and Angela reluctantly grabbed their own pizza slices.

  Lisa said, “So, how’d it go this week, ladies?”

  “Yeah, how’d it go?” Nicole asked. She looked directly at me like she couldn’t wait to hear about my week’s failure.

  “You guys go first. I’m starving.” It would at least give me a chance to make something out of my pitiful attempt at being found this week.


  “Umm, did I miss something?” Vanessa asked.

  She frowned while Lisa filled her in on our man-finding pledge.

  “Okay. I guess that’s healthy. Gotta start somewhere.”

  “Lisa neglected to mention that they’re looking online for men.” I expected Vanessa to share my view and talk them out of participating in such ungodly behavior.

  “Cool,” she said, biting into her pizza.

  “Cool?” I wrinkled my eyebrows. “You’re okay with it?”

  “I don’t see anything wrong with it. In fact, a good friend of mine met her husband on eHarmony about four years ago. They’re happy, and she says it was the best thing she ever did. And one of the other girls on staff at the church just got engaged to a guy she met through an online Christian dating service.”

  “Ooooh, which one?” Lisa bounced on the edge of her seat.

  “I can’t believe this.” I rolled my eyes and looked at Vanessa like she had betrayed me.

  “Really? Tell us how your dating week went then,” Lisa said.

  “That has nothing to do with it,” I sulked.

  “That bad, huh?” Nicole tried to catch some vegetables falling out of her wrap. Yellow sauce dripped down her arm.

  I got up to get her a napkin and a fork. “Yeah.” Might as well be honest. They’d see through any lie I tried to fabricate. I sat back down and plopped the napkins on the table. “Pretty horrible, actually. I swear everyone in the city is married or has a girlfriend.”

  I told them about my week. I finished by telling them about Mr. Cutie in Starbucks.

  “What a dog.” Nicole had a disgusted that’s-why-I-hate-men look on her face. “Actually, though, I think that counts. You had an encounter with a guy. You took the initiative to step to him. You found out about him and quickly ruled him out. I’m the judge, and I’d say that qualifies as your one for the week.” Nicole patted my shoulder.

  “Really?” I looked at Lisa. I knew Nicole was trying to make me feel better.

  “I guess I agree,” Lisa said. “Especially since you approached him with the intention of getting to know him. You didn’t know Miss Hoochie Mama was on the way. Yeah, ’Chelle, you’re in there for the week.”