Illustrated and written by Monica Adrian.
My talented friend, John Venegas, wrote a companion piece featuring the male's perspective. You can view after or before by following this link: Unveiled
Chantelle
came to dinner in a black, fitted dress, with matching turquoise earrings and
stilettos. She had an extensive closet that capacitated her diet for
coordination. It was this diet of hers that made her start an interior design
business two years prior to this date. Normally she wouldn’t have resorted to
online dating but it had been too long since she had the proper excuse for
throwing an expensive dress on the ground. Unless it was for the heat of the
moment, her dresses were always kept on a hanger to later send to the
drycleaner.
She
stared at her long black fingernails while she waited for her date to arrive.
She questioned whether this was a good idea. But what appealed to her in online
dating was the way it resembled shopping. It was all about finding the
right fit. She had spent many hours at the computer narrowing it down to Nathan
Cress. According to his profile, he was an attorney who played tennis in his
free time and had traveled through Europe.
Chantelle
was not concerned with finding a relationship. The only thing that made her
take other factors into account, other than just physical appearance, was a
sense of dignity. It didn’t seem respectable to view men entirely for their abs
or cheekbones. This was why she was at dinner. Tramps met at street corners.
She met at distinguished cocktail restaurants. Just because she was not
particularly interested in having a husband as a result of this evening did not
mean the motions weren’t just as important, or that a bus driver or preschool
teacher would do.
No matter where
Chantelle went, be it the supermarket or an important business meeting, she
still did her makeup. She still coordinated her shoes with her outfit.
Appearances meant everything to her. So much so, that she was beginning to get
annoyed at Nathan for being late. She didn’t like to be seen at nice places
alone.
Before
long Nathan made his way to her table. She felt relieved that he had at just
that time because she worried that a few Impossibles at the bar were going to
beat him to the spot. She called them Impossibles because there was no possible
way that they would sleep with her. She looked at Nathan quickly up and down.
Now he had a chance.
She
stood up to give him a brief hug, the kind that are inviting without having any
boobs pressed up against anything, that involves a slight twisting of the body
right before contact. To introduce breasts that early in the night would be
vulgar so she was careful about this. Why she felt that she was a master of
this type of hug was that she had her own signature touch. She let her hands linger
for half a second before dragging them momentarily down his back as she removed
them. It was a move that was geared to make men think about her touch, to have
them wonder what intentions were behind it, to make them aware that she was a
woman with needs without making them too certain of it.
Dating
was a game. While staring at his turquoise eyes she was determined to win, to
conquer. Those eyes were the exact color of her earrings.
***********
Carly came to dinner in a black dress. Perhaps she looked overly formal in it,
like she was trying too hard. She put her beige jacket back on just in case.
She felt hot in it, but she questioned if it was just that she was nervous. It
had been a while since she had been on a good date and never had she tried one
from online. She was tired of watching all her friends get married while she
was still single. She wasn’t making any progress busying herself grading papers
for high school English. Carly wanted more than anything to have someone to
come home to, to stay up and watch shows on Netflix, and spend her Saturday’s
with instead of being alone at the library.
Carly
stared at the promotions on display. They were having a two for twenty-five
deal. She wondered if it’d be a good idea to propose ordering from it, if her
thriftiness would be appreciated.
She
liked that Nathan Cress enjoyed reading though they hadn’t listed any of the
same books in their profiles. But what intrigued Carly most about Nathan, aside
from his good looks, was that he had reached a point of stability in his life
and seemed to be looking for something more. She was so involved in thinking
about all this that she didn’t notice when her date had arrived.
Carly
stood to greet him. She got a whiff of his cologne as she gave him a hug, one
hand on the shoulder, the other beckoning him to sit. He smelled like a
magazine. She quickly decided when viewing his powder blue dress shirt that she
was not overdressed and took her jacket off.
She
decided to forgo her idea of ordering from the promotions. That was something
old couples did to save money. She wasn’t there yet. Beginnings are about not
holding back, taking chances, and spending more time to get ready than you
would three months into it. And since she was spending more time on her
appearance it was okay if he spent more on the check, right? Carly realized
that she must have looked troubled when he had stopped to tell her to order
whatever she wanted.
If
only dating were so simple. That you could look from a menu and get whatever
you wanted. Online dating was as close to that as anything. But with dating the
food has to like you back too. And often things come out not as you thought they
would. Either they’re too cold, or salty, or bitter, or something’s just off
but you can’t tell exactly what it is. In her past this was what she dealt with
most. This was why she was still single. This was why all her married friends
told her she was afraid of commitment. But she wasn’t. She just wanted to know
in her heart that it was right.
Carly
felt that she could get herself to not be so nervous if only he wasn’t so damn
handsome. She thought him to be the type of man that could actually get
whatever he wanted, that the world for him was one large menu that never
refused him—never said, “Sorry we are out of that.”
Why did he choose her of all people to spend dinner with?
***********
Chantelle
ordered the Ahi tuna. It was a small meal so she knew to eat it slowly. It was
always awkward to finish too early and have nothing to do but watch the other
eat.
He
talked of law, she of interior design. She made a comparison that her job also
involved persuasion, that often clients didn’t know what they really wanted and
that she would too often have to constantly sell them on her ideas because
their own would be disastrous.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t have a montage of family photos in a highly
contemporary living space. I told them the most I could do was print one large
photo as long as I could still choose the frame. The whole ordeal was a
nightmare. Their previous pictures would entirely clash so I had to hire a
photographer to take a new photo.”
“Yes, but it’s quite different than persuading a jury that someone is guilty of
murder.”
“Well
it may not be as serious as what you do, but I assure you a crapping of family
photos on that wall would be murder.” Chantelle could see from the lowering of
his head that what she was saying wasn’t agreeing with him. She believed herself
right in her opinion but didn’t want to come across as insensitive. It wasn’t
enough just to get men to sleep with her, she wanted them to be enamored with
her as well. “Oh what am I saying? What you do puts my job entirely into
perspective. I shouldn’t be pouting over mismatched ottomans and end tables.
You’re right. It doesn’t compare to actual life and death decisions.”
When
Chantelle felt that she was making a misstep, she felt herself clever about how
to recover from it. She would say the words he wanted to hear and coupled this
by a grazing of the leg with her own beneath the table. She was confident that
it was enough to get whatever she had said wrong out of any man’s head.
As
she sipped into her martini glass she was already strategizing how to get him
to her apartment while making it seem like it was his idea.
***********
Carly
ordered the rosemary chicken. She wanted the steak, but she didn’t want to come
across as a woman who takes advantage. After the waitress had taken back the
menus, he told her, “So tell me about yourself.”
It
was an impossibly vague question. Carly racked her brain where to start. What
would interest him? Surely nothing at work. What could she tell him about? A
student said he liked her lecture on Tuesday? Jesus. She decided nothing
about work would do.
“Um…let
me think…I started a new book.”
“Writing
or reading?”
“Just reading.”
If
only it had been writing. She would have come off as far more interesting if
she was in the process of writing, The
Novel; The Dying Art, or Communication;
The Long-Term Effects of Social Media.
She
decided not to talk anymore about it. He didn’t seem like someone who would
want to hear about Jane Austen. Instead, she settled on throwing the question
back at him.
“What
about you?”
“What
would you like to know?”
It was so simple. Why didn’t she think to respond back in the same way he did?
Every great essay has a narrow thesis. She could have avoided wrestling with
herself to find the single most interesting thing about her. Carly never
thought herself anything more than ordinary and it amazed her how much sex
appeal he was able to give those six simple words. There were so many things she
wanted to know. Did he want marriage? Children? Was he close to his family? All
those seemed way too serious.
“What made you decide to ask me
to dinner?”
***********
Chantelle looked over to the right side of the bed where he was sleeping. She
was satisfied with how the night progressed. He had put on a fair performance.
Not the most passion she had ever experienced but he proved himself to be a
valid contender for her top five.
She
looked with dismay at her black dress on her pristine white carpet. It was time
for it to be hung. She quietly got out of bed and placed it on its designated
hanger.
She felt annoyed that he was still sleeping. She was ready to make the bed.
***********
Carly
woke in the morning long before he did. It was surreal to see someone so
modelesque in her bed. He hardly belonged in it. Her sheets were so knappy. She
tried to get back to sleep but couldn’t. There was too much to think about.
Perhaps
she had made a mistake by letting him come here so soon—ruined her chances with
a seemingly perfect guy, that he would think less of her because of it. It
wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t help but unravel at his touch. It had been too
long and he was far too skilled at the art of seduction. But after a while of
regrets she realized Prince Charming was not destined to be her life partner.
Prince Charming was a fantasy, and the night she had spent with him would most
likely amount to nothing more than an indulgence, a memory to tuck into the
depths of her brain only to resurrect on lonely nights where she would touch
herself. It was not what she had set out for, but it was enough—enough to
remind her that she was attractive. Perhaps he would come back and she’d get
the opportunity to enjoy him a few more times, but then what?
When
would she find what she truly wanted? Who was that person she was searching
for? That man in her life who was the reason why she kept wearing these black
dresses.
Thank you for the read. I had a nice time reading your work again. It had just enough depth and humor.
ReplyDelete