The BACHELORETTE Project (The Project: LESLEE Series)
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“Mazel fuckin’ Tov!” everyone yells and begins to clap.
“It’s now time for the bride and groom’s first dance,” the DJ says through the microphone. “Mr. and Mrs. Katzovitz, please take the floor.” Karen shakily stands up, and her body slowly proceeds to drop to the floor. A draft of silence enters the room. I shrug my shoulders at the DJ. “OK,” he says. “So we’ll move on from that portion of the reception. Free dance, everybody!” The guests flood to the floor with the most outrageous dance moves I’ve ever seen. It’s sad to watch people with no rhythm whatsoever, especially when there’s a fast paced Madonna song playing.
“Leslee?” I turn around in my seat and see Carter standing behind me.
“Hi!” I say cheerfully. “Are you having a good time?”
“It’s a very interesting wedding,” he says.
“To say the least.”
“You wanna dance?” he asks.
“I thought you couldn’t dance.”
“You can teach me a few steps,” Carter tells me and I laugh. “By the looks of things, no body here can dance at all.” He puts his hand out. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
I finally agree and nod my head. “OK,” I say and he leads me to the dance floor. He’s definitely right about one thing: he can’t dance for shit. The way he gyrates and pivots his hips around the dance floor is nothing less than a frat boy after four pints of beer, ugh!
So, let’s get this straight about Carter. He has the looks, a good job, phenomenal mannerism toward women, he’s funny, goal-oriented, but his dance moves are a complete and utter fail. I guess you really can’t have it all. But in all fairness, he did warn me. Sigh.
The DJ softens the mood with Mariah Carey’s “Vision of Love.” Hopefully Carter’s a better slow dancer than disco dancer. He rightfully ruined Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” for me. I can never, I mean never, listen to that song the same again (and why anyone would play that song during a wedding is beyond me).
“Are you having a good time?” he asks as he pulls me closer to him.
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s been fun.”
“I told you I was a horrible dancer.”
“That you didn’t lie about,” I agree nodding my head. We both laugh. His handsome face and his smile are all too difficult to deny. He is in fact the perfect guy, but I feel like something is missing. “Listen Carter,” I start, “you are a wonderful guy and I should feel honored that you’re even a tad bit interested in me, but …” I drift off. Why am I doing this? I have the man of my dreams right in front of me but I just don’t feel right. I must be crazy. Hell, I am crazy. I sigh and look into Carter’s eyes. “I wouldn’t be true to my heart if we ever got serious. I’m sorry.”
He smiles. “That’s OK,” he tells me. “I’m just glad you’re being honest.”
“I hope we can still be friends,” I say. “I really enjoy your company … much more than your dancing I have to say.” We both laugh. “I’m glad you understand.”
We continue to dance under the dimmed lights until the song is over. I give him a hug and thank him for the dance. I find Karen in a corner sulked down in a chair. I join her.
“Having fun, Mrs. Katzovitz?” I ask jokingly. She shrugs her shoulders.
“I guess,” she mumbles looking toward the dance floor. “What’s with all the disco music? I told him to play Beyonce!” she whines.
“He did,” I tell her. “You were just too passed out to notice.”
“Why do I feel so sick?” she asks. “This is my wedding day! I’m not supposed to feel sick,” she slurs and I pat her head.
“It’s OK. It happens.” I put my arm around her to comfort her. “You know I’m really, really happy for you, Karen. You and Russ are great together.”
She smiles. “Yeah, I think so, too.” She turns her head to me. “I’m married! I’m finally married!”
“Yes, Karen. You are finally married,” I tell her. “OK, well I’m going to go outside and get some air if you don’t mind.”
“Go ‘head!” she says cheerfully. “Get some air. Take one of the limos for a ride if you want. Explore Philadelphia! Take the grand tour!”
“You sure?” A limo ride around the city sounds really nice about now. I can clear my head a little and get some fresh Philadelphia air.
“Go!” she says brushing me off. “Take a ride!”
I give her a peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Kare Bear!” I say.
“I’m just going to stay here until you get back and…” Karen’s mind wanders off as she begins to smile and stare at the ceiling. Okay, then.
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I climb into the limo and plop down in the seat. I look around the inside admiring how clean and luxurious it is. I wish I could ride in a limousine everyday. I wish life were this relaxing and comfortable. I wish.
The driver rolls down the partition. “You going somewhere or just hangin’ out?” he asks me.
“Both,” I tell him. I think for a second. My mind is cloudy and filled with so many different thoughts. I don’t even know where I want to go to clear my head! “Can we take a ride around Independence Hall?”
“Sure,” he answers. “Anywhere else?”
“Actually, yeah,” I say remembering the picture that Angelique had dropped on my floor earlier today. “The Art Museum.”
“You got it!” the limo driver says as he pulls off into the streets of Philadelphia. Looking out the window, I breathe in every light, every historical building, every eccentric citizen walking on the sidewalk. It’s crazy how beautiful a city can be. One love that I’m definitely sure of is my love for Philadelphia, my home, my sanctuary.
“Here we are, Miss,” the driver says as we pull in front of our destination. “The Philadelphia Museum of Art.”
I take a relieving sigh. “Just perfect,” I say to myself. From the Romanesque pillars to the historical, breathtaking structure, there’s no other place I want to be right now. I exit the limo and just stare at the museum in all its lit up beauty. On the subject of weddings and marriage, this would be my choice. This is where I’d want to tie the knot. So. Completely. Gorgeous.
I walk up the steps in as many graceful strides that I can handle in heels. Well, this is stupid, I think to myself. It’s as if my subconscious is telling me that while I’m here I’ll recreate some special moment from my past, but in reality I’m freezing. Cold and wintery Philadelphia weather. I make it to the top and look up into the sky as miniature snow flurries brush against my face. The funny thing about snow is how crystal-like and magical it looks when it first falls. Let the snow fall, I think. It’s almost like I’m letting go of all my thoughts and being carried away in a Cinderella moment. A Cinderella moment … almost like the Cinderella syndrome that I warn my clients about. Nothing in life is a fairytale. Love is not a fairytale. Love can sometimes take work. So why at this very moment do I feel like I’m Cinderella and all that’s missing is my Prince Charming?
“So I met this girl in college …” I hear a voice say. I turn around to see none other than Eric walking towards me with white roses in his hands. I blush. “I remember it like it was yesterday. We met in a pre-calculus class, freshman year, fall semester. She sat in front of me and every day it was the same thing. She’d bring in her latte and she always wore a winter hat and a scarf because the classroom was always cold. I remember thinking that she’s always prepared, never late, very smart … and then one day she turned around, looked at me and asked if she could borrow a pencil.” I remember that class, the room, and my horrible hat habit. I smile at the memory of it all. It was a good memory … and I remember the day that I turned around and saw him in the seat behind me. In fact, I remember him having somewhat of a hat habit himself: a worn out maroon, Philadelphia Phillies baseball cap.
“Anyway, from that day, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Her long black hair, her smile, and the way she laughed,” he says, smiling. “I couldn’t get her laugh out of my head because it was
the cutest laugh that I’ve ever heard in my life.” And probably the loudest, I think to myself. I’ll admit it. I am a loud person in every aspect.
“So, I befriended her, then I asked her out on a date,” he says.
“And what did she say?”
“Well,” he starts, “she said no. She shot me down.”
I begin to shake my head, confused as to what I should say. “Look, I didn’t know that I hurt you when I said no. We were friends!” I exclaim. “I didn’t want to change that.”
“You’re right,” he agrees. “You are absolutely right. Anyway, after I was gently rejected by my friend, I decided to join a fraternity. I thought it was the easiest way to get girls and not get attached to them, which by the way wasn’t a bad idea at the time.”
“No, not at all,” I say sarcastically. “It was probably the most romantic thing you’ve ever done.”
“So, this girl,” he starts, “the girl I met in pre-calculus?”
“I’m familiar with that girl …”
“We stayed friends through everything. The good, the bad, everything, and we stayed friends for ten years, and it wasn’t until one crazy night with this girl …” Eric takes my hand and looks into my eyes. “I realized that for all these years I was in love with her.” I feel a tear roll down my cheek, and quite frankly, I’m speechless.
Eric hands me the roses and holds my hand tightly. “Leslee,” he says, “I loved you the day I laid eyes on you and that night a few months ago made me realize that my feelings have never changed for you … and I would’ve called. I should’ve called, but I wanted to be absolutely sure before doing this again.”
“Doing what again?” I ask, laughing and crying at the same time.
“Leslee Marie Robinson,” he says as he drops onto one knee. My heart begins to race faster. What is he doing?! I think to myself.
“Yes, Eric?” I ask nervously, smiling.
“Will you go out on a date with me?” he smiles. “I know you rejected me ten years ago, but I’m hoping that I have a better chance today.” I begin to laugh and I playfully tap him on the shoulder.
“Of course I’ll go out with you!” I exclaim.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” he says as he rises from the ground and picks me up while hugging me. I begin to laugh as he places me on the step. I watch as the snow slowly hits his face, and in that moment, he softly kisses me. I relish in the moment. I never want to let him go.
After the kiss, we just stare at each other and laugh. “So Eric,” I start as we walk down the steps towards the limousine, “what do we do now?”
He scratches his head for a second. “I don’t know about you,” he says, “but I’m extremely late for a wedding reception.”
I nod my head. “Sounds like a plan,” I reply as he opens the limousine door for me. I climb into the vehicle with him, and we both sit and stare at each other. I begin to giggle as he puts his arm around me. Finally, FINALLY this Cinderella has successfully found her Prince Charming. BACHELORETTE experiment status: COMPLETE!
Epilogue
Six Months Later
So, I know that the whole entire world is curious to know how the characters of my little fairytale and I ended up. Well, I can safely say that the pieces of this crazy puzzle have finally fit into place from a very karma-like standpoint. I tried calling Victor, my ex-fiancé, just to see if the news of him being homeless and a sex addict were true. Turns out that the news doesn’t lie all the time. After it surfaced that he was a psychotic nymphomaniac, his parents took conservership over him and anything that was left in his bank account, which wasn’t much. They used the money that he had left over and sent him to a rehabilitation center in Connecticut. If there’s one thing that cures sexual addiction, it’s the open air and seclusion of Connecticut. At least that’s what I’ve heard. Anyway, Victor apologized to me, and then confessed to sleeping with over one hundred women while we were together. All I have to say to that is thank God for Trojan condoms and my quarterly visits to my gynecologist. A word of advice to the ladies out there: love your vagina! Your boyfriend or husband could very well turn out to be a Victor, and then you’ll be officially screwed.
Onto Annie and Xavier. I heard it through the grapevine that they are still together, and also that she’s pregnant. I also heard that they fight consistently and that the baby may not even be his. She’ll appear on The Maury Povich Show very soon in the future—well that’s my prediction anyway. Karma, maybe?
Then of course there’s Mike, Eric’s friend. You know, the one who was sleeping with Shrek. Well, I’m happy to report that Mike has finally settled down with this grenade of a woman and has popped the question to her. Yes, Shrek and Mike are getting married. Love has no boundaries, even when your children are the evil of the Earth. Sigh.
My wonderful friends Karen and Russ are doing very well. Karen has finally graduated from UPenn with a doctorate in English Literature, and Russ is still at the same job with Carter. The happy couple took a month off to travel to England and Ireland, and she still refuses to talk about having children in the future, but she’s agreed to adopt a dog … the dog that I stole from Mark’s house (remember him? The Superman Fetish Freak).
Carter is still working like crazy. I offered him my services in matchmaking, and at first he declined, but then finally gave in. I hooked him up with one of my clients named Tracy, a beautician from Springfield, and they’ve been dating for three months now. I, of course, wish them the best of luck.
Last but not least, there’s Eric and me. Let me be the first to tell you how incredibly happy we are with each other. We’ve been dating for six months and it’s magical. His Internet business has been a thriving asset for the Philadelphia Tri-State area and for the rest of the country. Life for him has been great. Life with him has been even better. We’ve been completely content with dating each other and not moving too fast. We don’t live together just yet, but we’re discussing it slowly but surely, no rush. We are very much in love with each other, and we are very happy with that.
As far as my matchmaking business, well, it’s been great. I’m the number one matchmaker in Philadelphia finding love for those who almost stopped believing in love. If anyone asks me about my life and love, I tell them the truth. Life is just life, but it’s a little more interesting when love is involved. I’m blessed to have love in my life, and I’m happy to have one of the most interesting yet wonderful lives of all.
About the Author
Tami Anthony is an author, a playwright, and the beautiful mind behind Pink Butterfly Publications, a publishing company devoted to female-driven literature. She is a graduate of Rutgers University with a Bachelor’s in English Literature and Theatre Arts. Tami presently resides outside of Philadelphia with her son and is currently working on her second novel and future plays.
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