Kennedy
Pushing though the crowded street, I glanced down at my watch. I was meant to open up in a whole 7 minutes and I wasn’t even at off the subway yet. I bolted from the train and headed towards the promise of fresh air at the top of the stairs.
Rushing past my usual Starbucks branch and allowing my self a quick jealous glance at all those lucky people getting their caffeine fix, I realised that the annoying sound that was distracting me from my hatred of Monday mornings was in fact my cell phone.
“Hey Russ.”
“Running late again are we, Kennedy? It’s a good thing you have a wonderful friend and employee who is already at your store with coffee and muffins. Someone give that guy a raise!”
“I could kiss you right now, Russ. I’ll only be a minute.”
“That’s what she said.”
Knowing that all was not lost now, I hurried along the packed street thinking that this week had to at least improve the air of depression hanging over me from the weekend.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and spending time with them is one of my favourite things but it also has the tendency to highlight some areas of my life that, frankly, I suck in.
I had my shop and, despite my foul start this morning, I loved walking into work everyday and knowing that it was all mine. I was my own boss, something that I has always dreamed of but never imagined I would get at the age of 23. Fashion was something that consumed me on a daily basis. I was not obsessed with the way I looked but I liked to take pride in my appearance.
I graduated NYU with my degree in fashion and instantly realised that being someone’s slave in order to eventually make enough to afford to eat every month was not something I was interested in. I decided to stock vintage accessories and my own designs in a small SoHo boutique in a moment of madness and I was lucky enough for an Olsen twin to buy one of my pieces, gaining a cult following that was growing everyday.
My love life, however, was the dictionary definition of pathetic. And Russ liked to remind me of it on a daily basis.
In comparison, my sister’s love life was somewhat of a fairytale. She met Luke when she was 18 and a freshman at college. He was in the year above and the hottest guy in school. He also needed help with the washing machine one night in the laundry room and obviously my beautiful sister was there to advise him on all his coin slotting needs.
Five years later they were married in a perfect ceremony in our parents’ backyard on a perfect sunny day before jetting off for a perfect honeymoon in Hawaii. Next came the two perfect children. Florence and Tallulah were the most beautiful things I had ever seen. They had those blonde curls that I thought only angels were allowed, the biggest and bluest eyes I had ever seen and the cutest smiles that always managed to make my day. In short, our world revolved around those two little girls.
A weekend with them meant loving looks between Luke and Greta, precious moments with their children, and family comforts that were taken for granted by them but were entrancing to me. Greta had the type of life that I wanted. She had the great love and she was building her own life with him.
My love life had consisted of only two real relationships. My college boyfriend Lui was perfect on the surface. A golden tan, dark eyes and manly stubble. His penchant for other women, however, had provided a bit of a dilemma in our two year relationship.
My other serious boyfriend had been after college in New York, an artist by the name of Alex. He was the polar opposite of Lui, with a shaggy blonde hair cut and surfer appeal. While we both had realised that we wanted commitment, we also realised that it wasn’t each other we wanted it with and remained great friends even today.
I finally spotted Russ chatting to some customers in an effort to try and distract them from the fact the store should have been opened by now. It was only 9:04am so personally, I thought I had done rather well.
“Sorry guys, come on in,” I gushed as I opened the door and grabbed my coffee from Russ.
The morning passed quickly with me barely getting a chance to talk to Russ about my weekend. He understood the downside to being with my family and was a great listener. He also thought he was great at giving advice.
“So missy, how painful was the weekend?”
“What sort of scale are we using here?” I replied distracted by the new jewelery that had come in this morning. I knew I was going to have to keep some of it for myself.
“Lets go for the classic 1 to 10.”
“A solid 9.5”
“Lucky for you I anticipated this answer and I know I have the perfect solution this time.” Without even looking at him, I could already sense the self-satisfied smirk flitting across his face.
“If you even think I am going on another one of your wonderful blind dates then you clearly need more help than I originally thought.”
Russ’ idea of ‘ideal’ men for me had been somewhat questionable in the past. In fact, it was so questionable that I am sure it was a miracle that I had returned from each nightmare alive and well. He claimed these men were friends of his but I am sure that he stood on the nearest street corner and picked the first guy who stopped. A few certainly smelt that way anyway.
“Actually Little Miss Pessimist, it’s not one of my cracking blind dates.” He started turning the computer screen to me and indicating the website he had open.
“eHarmony.com? Really Russ, you think that I need professional help now?”
“Please honey, I have thought that for years now,” Russ snorted
“No way. Absolutely not. Places like that are for weirdos and liars. I bet half those pictures on the site are fake.”
“Kennedy, there isn’t any harm in looking. I’m sure that with a little research…” he started, trailing off to a mumble that sounded something like ‘my perfect match’ when he saw my look.
Later that night as I was sat eating some leftovers my mother had insisted I leave with, as if I was still in college and incapable of cooking, I thought about Russ’ dismissed suggestion. Now I’d had time to think about it, I realised that internet dating was how so many people were meeting these days. I read at least one story about it in every US weekly.
But surely they were the losers of the world? Then again I was looking pretty loserish; 23 and a couch potato. What a catch.
Sighing, I switched the TV over, hoping to find something decent to watch before I inevitably fell asleep. After finally settling on a Comedy Central Presents re-run, the stupid channel went to a commercial.
”At eHarmony we pre-screen each match for you, to determine matches based on compatibility,” the commercial said.
With one particular tender look between Greta and Luke springing into mind, I suddenly found myself logging onto the site I had been so quick to rule out earlier.