Speed dating. Why on earth did I agree to do this? It is absolutely horrible. I am surrounded by utterly boring people. “If you had to compare yourself to a dog, what kind of dog would you be?” I choke. A dog? You are asking me what kind of drooling hairy beast I would be? “A Labrador.” I hate myself for not having to think about the answer. It is obvious. Labradors are cute and loyal, they are like me. It doesn’t matter how many times you kick it, it will always come back crawling with its tail between it legs begging for forgiveness, even when they did nothing wrong. I look at the clock, thirty more minutes of pure hell. Speed dating, what was I thinking?
I ask the woman sitting opposite of me what kind of dog she would be. If she can ask the question, surely she will be able to answer it. Her story bores me, I should feel bad. I cannot even pay attention to her for ten minutes. She rambles about being a Rottweiler. Great. Just what I need. Another bitch on fulltime PMS.
I let my eyes wander through the room. So far, I have not written one name down, that I would like to get to know better. They are either too narcissistic or too naïve to understand the ‘fine’ art of speed dating. Truth be told, I don’t understand it either, I shouldn’t be here. My friend dragged me along, said I needed to get out more. I disagreed. I was perfectly content with being in my apartment, blinds closed and television on, feeling miserable.
The buzzer zooms. Thank god. Moving on. Twenty more minutes. “Hello, my name is Rachel.” I want to bang my head against the table. I do not ever want another Rachel in my life. “Hello Rachel” Silence. I am done with dragging information out of them. More silence. Complete silence. This is awkward and uncomfortable. “Excuse me Rachel, I wish you the best of luck in your quest, but I am not the one for you.” She looks confused. Poor woman, I probably just shattered her speed dating illusion. Oh well, she will get over it. I walk towards the bar and order a double vodka.
“Rough day troublemaker?” I sigh. Please, just back off, leave me alone. I am done with speed dating, I am not sitting at a table, why won’t people just leave me alone? “You could say that, yes.” I feel rude, I probably am rude. “I’m sorry to hear that, can I offer you another drink?” I ponder a while on how to let her down without hurting her feelings. Would she be hurt? Is she bored with speed dating as well? My head moves in her direction, but the moment I lay my eyes on her I know I am in trouble, deep trouble. Her eyes are blue as an Hawaii ocean, although I have never seen one, but I can imagine the ocean being as blue as her eyes. I stutter words that she by the look of her face doesn’t understand. “A drink, yes, please, that would be nice.” She chuckles. “Not much into speed dating huh?” I nod although I am starting to appreciate a bit more at the moment. I slam the vodka down my throat and cough from the fire burning deep down.
I shouldn’t drink vodka. Vodka makes me talk. Darn vodka. We talk, her and I. About speed dating, she mostly talks and I listen. Her voice is soothing, more soothing than any bottle of vodka could be. I am in deep, deep trouble.
“Tell me, what was the weirdest question you were asked today?” She looks sincerely interested, she’s gorgeous, I have a hard time focusing on what she says. Damn women. I stutter again. “Dog.” She looks puzzled. “Dog? You will have to elaborate on that!” I smile. “If I had to compare myself to a dog, what kind of dog would I be.” She laughs. “That’s an easy one for me. A Labrador.” I look at her, unable to look away. She’s a Labrador. I am in deep, deep trouble.
We walk outside to smoke a cigarette. Two cigarettes. Three cigarettes. I am smitten, but I can’t be smitten. I don’t know her. This is what I do, I fall for people that I hardly know, yet it feels like I have known her forever. This won’t end well, I’ll end up getting hurt. My heart will end up shattered, on a silver platter, like it has been many times before. I have known this woman for maybe three hours and I already trust her. This is wrong.
She seems sweet, caring, loving and loyal. She possesses all those Labrador qualities. I feel drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, unable to stay away, even when knowing the flame might be dangerous. She is fire. She scares me, but I want to be close to her, she is entertaining. I already dread the moment she will go home. It’s terrible. I am falling for her, deeply.
“Come dance with me.” It’s not a question and I chuckle. I’d love to dance with her, but I don’t dance. I step on feet. I make people growl and grumble and ditch me for another dance partner that won’t make their feet bruise within the first five minutes. She takes my hand and guides me to the dance floor. Oh god. This is not going to end well. She pulls me closer, she sure is persistent, I have got to give her that. We dance, so far so good. I feel dizzy in her arms. She’s beautiful, her long curls draping over her shoulders. She’s so gracious and I feel like Pinocchio. She whispers something in my ear but I cannot hear her over the music. I don’t know whether to nod or to just be silent. My eyes lock on her fingers as they move towards my face and stroke my hair back. This time I hear her clearly, she’s so close, I can smell her perfume. She smells define. I should have worn something, god I’m such a loser sometimes. I feel like I went from a grown Labrador to a puppy. I am in deep, deep trouble, but god it feels good.
The music changes to a fast song, but she doesn’t change her rhythm, it confuses me. She moves in fast, within me, my heart and my soul. I grin. I don’t even know her name. This is utterly ridiculous.
My thoughts are here, there and everywhere. I cannot dance and not think. I think 24/7. It’s part of who I am. I think too long and too much, I should focus on dancing but I’m scared when I do, I will step on her feet, I’m surprised I haven’t so far.
She’s tall, taller than me, I have to look up at her to look into her eyes, but I don’t dare to do so, her eyes are enchanting. They feel like magic. Who knows, maybe she’s a witch and perhaps I am under her spell, all I know is that this feels good, this feels right.
The perfect moment gets ruined by a man who yells on an intercom that the speed dating has officially ended and the club will close for the day. This is the moment I dreaded. It took longer than I had expected. The lights pop on and we’re surrounded by bright light, what a downer to end the day with. The magic had ended, or has it? She grabs my hand again and pulls me through the crowd of people. I walk by Rachel, who still looks as confused as before. Poor woman.
We stand outside, smoking another cigarette. She doesn’t talk and I don’t know what to say. What do you tell a complete stranger? “Hey, I like you, don’t go away?” That will make her run .. fast. I try to find the right words while lurking on my cigarette. No words seem to fit, thankfully, she speaks first. “This was fun, we should do it again.” Yes. Yes, we should. Right now, let’s do it again. I nod instead. I am scared to push her away. I am scared to scare her off. “Hm, are you shy or are you trying to get rid of me?” I look up in those ever tantalizing eyes and whisper, “No, was just wondering what your name is.” She smiles as her hand cups my cheek. “You.. may call me Lady Cera and I will call you whatever pleases me.” I smile for I know, I am in deep, deep trouble, but trouble has never felt so right before.
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