Page 9 of Just for Fun
The next forty-five minutes go by in a blur. I feel oddly unsettled, forgetting to pay attention to details like I normally would. For example, I throw my lunch into the bag I take with me every day. Usually, I make sure everything is in there just so, and looking at it now, it gives me anxiety. I take everything back out and organize it so that it fits in a way that doesn’t look messy.
The same thing happens with the clothes that I want to wear on the next day. I forget to pick a pair of underwear, finding myself just staring at the drawer that contains all my undergarments.
By the time I get back to my laptop, I am close to being out of breath, and almost in need of another shower. According to the reviews I read, it is easier to look through the list of candidates through the app on your phone or tablet as opposed to the website. I take a minute to download it and log in, but then, I feel completely lost.
“I don’t understand this…”
I’ve always tended to speak to myself when in distress, and tonight qualifies me as being in distress.
“Get it together, Zara,” I try to encourage myself. “You got this.”
The amount of people signed up on this app is overwhelmingly high. I keep on scrolling for a long time before realizing that I didn’t use the filters properly. Backing out of that page, I start over, paying more attention to all the options.
There’s a question about how many miles outside your area you’d be willing to go. At first, the answer is obvious. I want someone who lives as close as possible. But then, I’m not sure whether that’s a good idea. Why would I want someone this close? What if we end up having people in common? I would not like that at all.
I go back and edit my zip code, choosing a small town that’s about twenty miles away from where I live. Then, I pick a fifty-mile radius in the opposite direction. That should do it.
I have no idea how much time I spend scrolling through endless pages of men who I want nothing to do with. In all honesty, I have no idea what I am actually looking for. My eyes go over the pictures on their profiles, but none of them speak to me.
Taking a deep breath in, I go back to the filter. I guess I never chose a calendar date for my event, which is why I have so many results in my search.
“I hate this so much,” I whisper to myself, like I am scared that someone could hear me.
For a brief second, I get distracted by the realization that I don’t have a social life to speak of. It’s not that I don’t interact with people, because I do. But I never go out for happy hour or any weekend events they invite me to. In fact, I know that the invitations have slowed down considerably. I guess what would the point be in inviting me when they already know I will say no.
Deep down, I understand why my brother pushed me into bringing a date to this party, even though he knows how I am. He is trying to push me and bring me out of my shell.
In that same respect, I feel slightly betrayed by both him and our mother. They want me to get over it, but they don’t understand how much the past still affects me to this day. They are the only two people in this world who I trust.
I find it so baffling that the actions of one man inflicted so much distrust that’s been following me from such a young age. At some point, my mother tried to get me into counseling. All I did was cry and scream in protest, refusing to speak with my counselor. After a couple of months of the same thing, the lady suggested to my mother that she would give me a break. I calmed down, and we never talked about counseling again.
I learned to hide my misery, but I didn’t do a very good job of it since both Owen and mom got my number. And now… now I am left to find a suitable date on the internet.
“Okay, focus, Zara!”
The words echo in the silence of my house, once again bringing home the fact that I never have anyone around. Maybe this will be good for me, I decide. The least it can do is to help me talk to a stranger without finding a million reasons why I shouldn’t. This is a totally no strings attached situation.
I bring my focus back to the search, this time putting more effort into it. Once I enter the holiday I need a date for, the number of results becomes considerably smaller.
“We’ll make a list.”
This is when having another person around would become handy, because talking to myself during the entire process is just weird.
“Ugh!”
I roll my eyes toward the ceiling and shake off this feeling of ineptitude that’s suddenly hit me. How hard can it be to narrow down my list? I will save ten names, then go from there.
“Ahhh!” I yell at the ceiling when I can’t think of how I want to start this. Getting up from the couch, I rush to the kitchento grab a pad of paper and a pen. I flip to a clean page, then start drawing lines, building myself a table. I will worry about transferring it to an Excel sheet once I have a better picture of what I’m looking for here.
Column one, nice eyes. That’s the only physical trait I’m looking for. If I don’t trust his eyes, he is out.
Column two, pleasant personality.
Column three, punctual. This actually deserves three exclamation points because it is important.
Column four, not local.
I sit up and stare at my list, happy with what I came up. It makes sense, and it will be much easier choosing potential candidates now that I have a clearer picture in my head.
