The Wonderous Dating Game

by J. M. Mason

  I was going to find myself alone before Jodie and Jenny returned from their vacations. No girl’s night out for at least two weeks. This left me at loose ends, so it was time for me to work on getting online to find an internet dating service.

  For the past few weeks, games and letter writing became more important than trying to get online. Jenny said I was avoiding getting things set up because I was afraid to step out of my comfort zone. I’m sure she’s wrong.

  Yet being the queen of procrastination was my favorite role. It didn’t dawn on me that I hadn’t thought about a date in a long time. I found I thoroughly enjoyed my own company; my stress was decreased, and I slept better at night.

  Who knew I could be a fun date all by myself? Maybe a male companion wasn’t needed in my house, after all.

  Dr. Johnson was in the habit of closing the office early on Friday. It was a time for us to get to the bank before it closed to deposit our paychecks. Because Jodie and Jenny had taken their vacation at the same time, I was on my own for the whole weekend.

  No more procrastination, tonight is the night to sign up for a dating service or die trying. I know that’s a little extreme. However, I don’t want to be defeated by a mere machine. That machine kicked my behind too many times recently for me to be prideful.

  The first step was to find the best site for me and the easiest one to make a profile, so I used what someone called a “search engine,” this confused me. An engine to me was a motor, would it make as much noise as the dial tone? No way was I going to ask anyone for help so they could laugh at my ignorance.

  The best way for me to start the search was to type in ‘Dating Services.’ I found a site that was only five years old, I thought it would have men more my age than an older service. So, I decided this was where I would begin my new adventure in dating fun. This was starting to look too easy.

  When the site presented itself, there were photos of men who were out there looking for me, so I thought because they were on my personal computer. I was excited the site said I could search for free to see if I liked what I saw, so search I did.

  A button indicated that if I liked what I saw, I could wink. I winked until my eyes were beginning to grow large solid muscles from the excessive exercise.

  If a man appeared in my sight, I winked, the site didn’t allow me to see their profiles, so all I had was the image of the man to gauge whether I liked him or not. I was becoming bored with winking until the winks were being returned. Now what?

  I saw a button asking, “Do you like what you have seen so far? Push the green button for more information.”

  OK, so I pushed the green button. Up popped a message that informed me because I liked what I was seeing. It was time for me to make a profile, so the winkers had a chance to meet me. The profile questions were many and very personal.

  Later another pop up appeared telling me kindly it was time to pay the piper for having the privilege to shop for a man of my dreams on their site. So, I paid the piper and began to search seriously. My one designated man had to be on the internet being held prisoner, just waiting for me to release him, making it my duty to set him free.

  This was when I discovered that many of the men were clear across the nation, and a couple were in Canada. One of the men I winked at was living in Massachusetts. I have a difficult time pronouncing that name, let alone date someone so far away. Dating him would make a whole new meaning to meeting at seven.

  I looked up at the clock and discovered it was nearing midnight. No wonder my eyes kept falling shut, and I was yawning. I needed to get some sleep. The site would be there again tomorrow.

  Chapter Fifty

  Saturday morning, I woke earlier than usual, though I was tempted to remain in bed all day, my body had other plans as my limbs began to twitch with anticipation of a new day, then I started to toss and turn like an over-exuberant fry cook flipping burgers during rush hour. I knew there was no way I could fall back to sleep, the day was enticing me to rise and shine.

  I stretched like a cat, and laid lazily on my back, concentrated on my muscles as they relaxed and reveled in the feeling of every fiber of my being as it woke up to a new day. At least the sun was well up in the sky and didn’t shine through the blinds in my eyes, for which I was thankful.

  Suddenly my mind was wide awake as it worked overtime about the dating service. I was like an addict and needed a fix. Those winks intrigued me, becoming an obsession as I wanted to find out more behind the men with the twinkle in their eyes. I jumped out of bed, brushed my teeth, and made my way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

  After the coffee brewed in the single-cup pot, I slathered an onion bagel with Jalapeno crème cheese and sat down at the computer on the kitchen table, placing the cup away from the keyboard. I heard the horror stories about someone who fried the computer with coffee.

  I didn’t have problems getting back to the dating service and resumed browsing the different profiles. This felt like snooping, but I liked it. It’s not what Mom taught me. She taught me it wasn’t nice to snoop in someone’s drawers, yet this was different. I didn’t have access to any of their drawers.

  When Mom taught me not to snoop in people’s drawers, I recalled she didn’t say a word about taking a quick peek in someone's medicine cabinets. I got the impression it was OK to look in medicine chests and spent many happy years, well into adulthood, doing just that.

  Before I grew out of the need to check out people’s medicine cabinets, I found that most of the time, people didn’t use it for medicine. I found baby toys, like rubber ducks, rattles, and blocks inside of a cabinet or two. The oddest contents of a medicine cabinet were one place setting of flatware.

  This was the only item in the medicine chest, making the unusual items the greatest mystery of my life. All I could do was stand and stare, I couldn’t reveal my secret passion, so I couldn’t question the persons who lived there. Why did they need to have a fork, knife, and spoon tucked away in their medicine cabinet?

  Before I finished my cup of coffee, I discovered a man on the dating site who lived within driving distance of me. I winked at him again, and he winked back almost instantly. He asked if I had a photo he could see, which I did. However, I didn’t know how to put it on the site.

  I won’t make you sick to your stomach when you look upon my face. If you find you can’t stand to look at me, I’ll wear a bag over my head to make you comfortable. I typed.

  I’d like to meet you with or without a photo. I’ll take a chance. You intrigue me. He replied. Do I need to bring a bag, or do you carry one in your purse? He typed back.

  This should’ve been a clue to tell him to hit the road, but not me. I needed to be abused to the maximum. Not really. I trust too much. He acted sincerely, so he must be honest, with a sense of humor.

  OK, I’m going to let you pick a place to meet so that you’ll be comfortable. I’m flexible with my time. I’m self-employed. Appeared on the screen of my computer.

  Do you know where the Satellite Inn is located? I wrote.

  I do. I visit Junction City frequently for business. He wrote.

  How about meeting there at the lounge at seven Saturday night. I typed.

  Great, I’ll find you when you find me. You have a photo to go by.

  After the conversation ended, I remembered that it was better to meet during the day to keep myself safe. I have a female friend, Sheila, who is the bartender at the Satellite Inn lounge, it would be better to have someone I know to help me feel secure. I’ll go early so I can discuss this with her.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Thirty minutes before I was to meet the gentleman, I walked into the lounge, found a stool at the end of the bar facing the entrance. I wanted to be sure to see the man before he saw me.

  Due to the dimness of the bar, I waited for my eyes to adjust, my eyes widened with joy when I saw Sheila cleaning the glasses behind the bar. It had been several months since we saw each other because of our work schedules. She loo
ked up, smiled, wiped her wet hands on a bar towel and walked toward me.

  “Hi, Stella,” Sheila greeted me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. How are you and what brings you here tonight?”

  “I’m meeting a gentleman here,” I said. “I met him on a dating site on the internet. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. I’ve not had a day off in so long I feel I live here. May I make you a drink, Stella?”

  “Yes, I also need your help if I may.”

  “OK, how may I help you this time?” She winked.

  It’s my guess it has been a long time since we’ve seen each other for purely social reasons. I must use her a lot, I made a mental note to resolve that situation in the future.

  “I’m meeting a blind date here, tonight, as I told you, I don’t know much about him, and I need a way out in case things don’t work out.”

  “I’ve been asked to do this before by men and women,” Sheila said. “How about if you need help, you raise your hand, and I’ll come and talk with you to make sure you don’t need another drink. You then excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, which is to the right and across the hallway as you leave the bar. Then I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “That sounds good. Oh, I think this is the man I’m to meet walking in now. Thank you.”

  A man who was around five feet seven or eight came sauntering into the bar and immediately made eye contact with me. He smiled and walked toward me.

  He was a handsome man with brown hair that was mostly covered by a blue cap with a white logo that I couldn’t read from across the room. The smile was wide and softened the angular features of his cheekbones and jaw. The corners of his brown eyes crinkled and improved the fine lines etched into his face.

  “Hi, I’m Randy, you must be Stella.”

  He held his hand out to me, I grasped it confidently, and he firmly shook my hand. His hands felt rough like he did manual labor, which was great. That would also explain the fine lines on his tanned face.

  “Hi, I’m indeed, Stella.”

  He looked me up and down, and his eyes focused on my lack of cleavage that was prominent because the neckline of my blouse was too deep for me. I should’ve worn a padded bra to help fill in the blouse. My discomfort was becoming intense as his eyes went from my chest to my eyes.

  His expression remained as it was when he entered the room. I didn’t notice any drooling or lust glowing from his face, yet I felt violated for some reason. The smile never left his face during the exchange. Yet, my skin felt like it was crawling around on my body. The hair stood up as I shuddered like I had felt a chill.

  “You’re not half bad, not bad at all. I guess I won’t need the bag after all. Can we visit in a booth so we can have privacy?”

  “I guess we could if you would feel more comfortable. The only booths are in the back of the room.”

  The unexplained feelings returned. I hate it when I feel uneasy when there is nothing to show the reasons for my reactions. He was coming off in my inner being as creepy, and I felt threatened.

  He walked toward the back, and I picked up my drink and followed him to the darkest booth in the place. I had a difficult time seeing my hand, let alone see him. I looked toward the bar to make sure Sheila could see me, and I could see her easily.

  When Sheila came to the table, Randy ordered a beer, and within minutes she returned with the beverage, sat a bowl of pretzels in front of us with his bottle of beer, and stood up straight and smiled, her eyes roaming from him to me.

  “If you need me, just raise your hand, and I’ll come running.”

  “Thank you. I’ll remember to do just that.”

  Randy and I played the get to know you game of all first-time daters. The only difference I noted was the increasing apprehension I was feeling. I still couldn’t detect any reason to feel what I was feeling. His questions at times felt like I was a suspect in a violent murder.

  Then it wasn’t any different than any other date as far as I could see so far, which wasn’t much as I strained my eyes in the dark, trying to focus on his face. Maybe he wasn’t a serial killer, after all, I tried to convince myself. I forced myself to relax and wondered why Sheila didn’t turn on more lights back in this corner.

  It took a while for my eyes to adjust somewhat so that I could see him more clearly. I noticed that the expression was different in so much as his eyes were narrowed as he looked toward me. His excessive stare made me want to squirm away from him.

  “Are you married?” he asked. “Do you date married men?”

  I was beginning to feel like I had entered the inquisition time, I waited for the bamboo shoots under the fingernails and bright lights to force answers from me. Why ask the question in such an intimidating way?

  “No to being married,” I said defensively. “I’m divorced against my desire. My husband found someone else and has remarried. I don’t ever date married men. Anyway, to my knowledge, I’ve never dated a married man. I have only had three dates since the divorce. You’re the fourth man I’ve agreed to meet.”

  Before I could ask him if he was married, I picked up my drink to sip from the straw, my throat felt dry because my nerves were on edge. To my surprise, the straw entered my right nostril. When I put the glass down on the table the straw remained lodged in my nose and pulled out of the glass.

  I was embarrassed, but not enough to remove the straw and pretend nothing unusual had happened. No, I had to pick up a second straw I’d removed from my glass and place it into the left nostril and smiled at him. I was distracted and didn’t ask him if he was married, there wasn’t another chance to get an answer to the question that should’ve been asked.

  The most important thing for me now presently was to make a complete and total fool of myself. The compulsion fueled by embarrassment overwhelmed me and caused me to keep on going to the very end.

  “Look, I’m a walrus.”

  I knew what I did was childish, yet I was so nervous, it couldn’t be helped. The night couldn’t end fast enough for me. This man was beginning to make me think he was a nut case, or I was the insane one. After all, I’m the one who had to make a walrus joke and pretend to be a lady.

  We sat in the booth in the back of the room in the dark. I denied the fact that this date was going down the toilet with the swirl. I thought the worst had happened, but I was wrong.

  He didn’t laugh, in fact his face was scrunched in a scowl. His head came up, and he looked down on me, which was a feat because sitting down, I was taller than he. This made me feel as though he wanted me to believe he was superior to me. Then he proved to me that he felt like he was more superior to God. I was stunned when he bowed his head, lifted his arms with his hands reaching for the sky.

  I looked behind me, thinking that the police were making an arrest and I hadn’t noticed. But there were no police, I was alone in the dark, in the back, in a booth with straws lodged in my nostrils with an insane stranger. Thankfully, I wasn’t kept in the dark any longer what he was doing, when he raised his face toward the ceiling and loudly began to speak in a chant-like voice that would bore a sloth.

  “God, almighty, please come down and save this poor wretched sinner. She drinks, and she blasphemes your name by placing things into her body for attention, desecrating your Holy Temple.

  “Oh, God, Holy Father, please send your Holy Spirit to touch her soul and keep her from finding men to lure into her bed on the devil’s tool, the computer.”

  I sat, my mouth agape, eyes wide with surprise as I pulled the straws from my nostrils and tossed them on the table in front of me. His voice became louder as he impeached God for my soul, “You in your infinite wisdom know I’m your faithful servant. My wife would be here with me to save this sinful lady, but you know she is working doing your bidding tonight. Forgive this poor woman sitting before me blaspheming your holy name. In Jesus' name, Amen.”

  I sat in stunned silence for what felt like a year when my arm shot up over my head, and I waved fra
nticly at Sheila, who promised to help me. Her help was not forthcoming, as promised. She waved back at me and smiled. My eyes widened, and my mouth fell open as I watched Sheila walk away from my sight.

  He raised his head, lowered his hands, and opened his eyes, and saw my hand waving wildly in the air as a smile spread across his face melting the frown lines on his forehead. My eyes widened more, and my heart was beating as wildly as my crazily waving hand. Neither was gaining the attention I anticipated when Sheila told me to raise my hand, and she would be there to help me.

  His hands went up over his head again. “Praise the Lord, my Father in Heaven, she has received the Holy Spirit, Lord Jesus, God Almighty, thank you for your quickly answered prayer from your steward in healing the woman, sitting before me, from her perverted ways.”

  I was so frightened I jumped up and turned to run from the building I was pacing back and forth in front of the booth when I saw Sheila coming toward me. Her eyes opened wide as she looked at my face that had paled from fear of this man. I began rapidly moving from foot to foot doing the pee-pee dance.

  “Oh, my God, I have to go to the bathroom right this minute!” I shouted.

  I nearly knocked over a table that stood behind me, as I scrambled to escape this man. I ran to the bathroom dodging tables and chairs, slammed into the door, entered the safety of the restroom and remained there for several minutes to make sure the man was gone.

  Splashing water on my face to cool the shame I was feeling. It wasn’t for my actions, but for the fact that this man was a religious zealot, he was a married man and stalking women on the internet to save their souls. The man was dangerous to my wellbeing.

  I wondered how far this man was willing to go to save my soul. My imagination was running wild with all kinds of murderous scenarios. How was I to explain to my sons why I was butchered by a fanatically religious man while on a blind date?