{ 2 }
Six Weeks to Christmas.
I grab my calendar and count. Six weeks to Christmas. I figure I can survive two dates a week with strange guys. That means I have twelve chances to find Mr. Shut-My-Family-Up. Twelve dates to Christmas. I find myself humming something about a partridge in a pear tree. Oh, great. My love life is like a Christmas song that involves maids a milking and lords a leaping. Perfect.
But I have no time for self-pity. I have to find a fake boyfriend in six weeks.
I have never tried online dating, but I figure with such a short time frame it’s my best bet. I put together a profile that I hope makes me sound a lot like my cousin Emily. Successful, thin, beautiful, humorless.
Online profiles have to be the ultimate in fakery. I am nothing like Emily and I don’t need one date. I need at least two. First: meet Mr. Perfect. Second: get him to Christmas dinner. If he comes to meet Emily and finds me there won’t be a second date.
I erase everything and start over.
I find a flattering picture from when I was a bridesmaid at Emily’s wedding two years ago. In a designer dress with my hair tamed and my make-up perfect.
I create a version of me that would bring tears to my mother’s eyes. Successful screenwriter. Snort. Hobbies that include exotic travel, skiing, horse back riding and fine dining. I do like all those things, I simply can’t afford them. Emily, on the other hand, can afford them, but she doesn’t have any time.
There’s a section in the online profile where you have to ask what you’re looking for in your mate. I channel my family all over the place, designing a Ken for my Barbie that would make a mother weep for joy. He’s successful, charismatic, rich and handsome. I’m half in love with him already and I just made him up.
I post my profile before I can change my mind. Then I spread my net wider.
I call my friend Stephanie. She’s an event planner in a big firm. They put on charity balls and huge parties. Maybe she can get me in front of the right people.
We meet at our favorite bar after work. I give her the quick update and ask her if she can get me into one of the endless charity events she organizes.
“Are you kidding?” she says when I’ve explained my predicament. “You hate those things.”
“I know, but I need to take the right kind of man home for Christmas.”
Stephanie looked at me over her skinny latte. “What you need is therapy.”
“Probably.”
She shrugged. “But who doesn’t? I only date men who aren’t available. Knowing that doesn’t help.”
I pull out my tablet computer to show her my online dating profile. “Oh, look. I already have two guys who want to meet me.”
The first guy looks like he just got out of jail. He has tattoos and those earrings that make big holes in your ears. My mother wouldn’t let him in the house. I delete him.
The second guy is – probably perfect for my cousin Emily. He’s an anesthetist. He just got back from scuba diving in Fiji. He skis, has a box at the opera and he volunteers for Doctors Without Borders. He calls himself Dr911.
He’s not drop-dead gorgeous but he’s nice looking. I email him right away.
“He looks boring,” Stephanie says.
“I have six weeks.”
While I’m replying another guy sends me a message. Fun4U.
“Fun4U?” Stephanie says, reading over my shoulder. “Really?”
“He has his own business. Likes to travel and keeps fit climbing mountains. Look. In his picture he’s heading to Everest Base Camp.”
I message him right back. Make my trek on Machu Picchu sound a lot more recent than it is.
Fun4U replies right away. “Hah. He wants to meet me.”
“Tell him you want to talk on the phone first. Trust me, you don’t have time to waste. You can filter a lot of duds out on the phone.”
“Thanks.” Fun4U agrees to talk on the phone later today and I send him my home number. I keep my cell for real friends and emergencies.
Stephanie meanwhile is checking her organizer. “I can probably get you into the Holiday Hearts fundraiser on Friday if you promise to write an article for your health magazine. At $500 a plate there will be nothing but doctors and rich people there. Dress formal.”
As I head home I feel like my project has hope.
When I walk in the door the phone is ringing. Wow. Fun4U is keen.