Page 1 of Vixen's Guide to Christmas
guide to christmas (and love) rule #72
Don’t judge a Christmas present by the wrapping paper. You never know what’s inside.
1
kat
“What does your sweater say?”
A genuine smile comes across my face as I lean back against the high-top chair I’m sitting at to show Eddie, my date for the next one minute and forty seconds, my ugly Christmas sweater.
“I like them real thick and sprucy,” I say with a smile. “You know. Like the song?”
Now, I don’t like to judge a book by its cover. People shock me every day, and I think that’s great. So Eddie, a thirty-three-year-old pharmacist with thick glasses and a combover, could be a fan of 1990s hip hop and R&B for all I know.
But judging by his crinkled nose and raised eyebrow at my sweater explanation, I’m going to put my money on that he’s not. His loss. I might’ve been just born, or not even, when the music I like came out, but if you don’t know the Christmas pun of “Baby Got Back” then I don’t think we’re compatible.
“Oh…yeah,” he tries to play off. “I get it now.”
He doesn’t. Poor guy.
Ding, ding, ding!
“It was nice meeting you,” I say as I hold out my hand to shake Eddie’s. “I hope you have a good time tonight.”
“Same to you, Katherine,” he says as he stands up from the table to head to his next speed date. “Maybe we can get a drink after?”
“We’ll see.” I don’t want to come off as rude, but I know damn well there won’t be a drink with him after. Or anyone.
I’m not here to find a date. Or love. Which I know is the reason people come to speed dating events. But not me. Oh no, tonight is about work. Because if everything goes my way, I’ll be adding Left for Love, the dating app company that is hosting tonight’s event, as one of my many clients that I serve as media strategist and publicist.
And to be frank, getting a new client is easier, and more satisfying, than finding a date. When it comes to work, I know what to do. What to say. I know the games everyone is playing, and I know how to win them.
Dating? That’s a whole other ballgame. I’ve never understood the rules. And when I thought I did, I realized I was playing with the wrong set.
If Iwastrying to date, something like this would be right up my alley. Because like my career, when it comes to trivia, I don’t lose. And if I could find someone who was as equally competitive in that sense as me, maybe, just maybe, I’d consider dating them.
Emphasis on consider. Because they’d also have to like the same music I do, be okay with me being a functioning workaholic, not be an asshole, realize that there’s a difference between outdoorsy things and outside-y things, and also need to eat good pussy.
But that’s it.
“How’s everything going?” I look up to see Hazel Montgomery-Calhoun, the CEO of Left for Love, sitting down across from me. The next round of dates is starting, but there was a shortage on males tonight since it wasn’t an advertisedevent, so I knew there would be one round where I’d get to take a break from pretending to find love.
“It’s going really well,” I say. “I know I said it when we spoke yesterday, but combining speed dating and trivia is so brilliant. The ice breakers are natural, and you know most people are here for the common theme.”
“I’m so glad you think that,” she says. “When we came up with the idea, it almost seemed too simple, but also too good not to try.”
I’m one of the best media strategists in the country. I’ve taken companies to new heights with product launches and overall game plans that have made their companies skyrocket. And most of the time, it doesn’t take reinventing the wheel.
Take Left for Love, for example. They’re the number-one dating app in the country. When it comes to them knowing what it takes to make people find love, there is no one better. But they’ve also seen a shift where people are wanting more in-person meets. People want to find that genuine connection again, and not through a phone screen. So what did they do? They came up with Quiz and Cupid, a night that combines speed-dating with their app’s matching formula, and then pair those matches up for a night of trivia to essentially give them their first date.
It’s genius. And I can’t wait to work on the campaign to officially launch it.
Hopefully. I’m not actually hired yet. But I can read a room, and I know when I’m going to get the job. Me attending tonight is just icing on the cake of my kissing up to my future boss.
“Sometimes the beauty is in the simplicity,” I say.
“I like that,” Hazel says, giving me a knowing smile. She doesn’t say anything else, but I’m pretty sure that little nugget of wisdom just put another point in the column for me againstwhomever else is in the running to get this job. “Maybe that should’ve been Left for Love’s slogan all along.”
