Striking Matches

I called right after supper, when I figured I could get her while she wasn't doing anything more urgent than cleaning up the kitchen. "Julie, My name is Harvey Nelson. Helen Simpkins suggested I call you. I'm looking for somebody to spend a little time with, and I thought maybe we could go to dinner Friday evening and get to know each other. Does that sound like something you'd like to do?"

"Harvey, did you say your name is? Now you listen to me, Harvey: Helen Simpkins is a meddling busybody. The day that I have to rely on somebody like her to get me a date is the day I'll just crawl into a hole and die. And if you're a friend of hers, I don't want anything to do with you either. You could be the last man on earth and my answer would be no. Or maybe hell, no!" And she hung up.

Time for another phone call. "Hello, Helen? I suggest you just pull Julie's page out of your notebook and tear it into little pieces. Could there possibly be a flaw in your system?"

"What happened?" I explained the brief but definitive phone conversation. "Well, that's a surprise. Maybe we ought to set our sights on next week, to give me a little more time to work on another selection. Expect a call from me by Monday, maybe sooner."

Sure enough, on Sunday afternoon I got a call from Helen. "Here's one that ought to work. I did a lot more checking to be sure of coming up with a match, and I called her and talked the whole thing over so you're not hitting her cold. Name's Gloria Smith. I wouldn't want to say that this one is a totally sure thing, but I really think it'll work."

I called Gloria and had a far better conversation than I had with Julie. We agreed to meet at the Harvest restaurant on Friday night at seven. She would wait in the parking lot in her car, which she described so I could find her.

Friday night I went to the Harvest restaurant and searched the lot. No car matching Gloria's description. I had been given the make, model, year, color, and license number, and it simply wasn't there. I got out my cell phone and called Gloria's number, and got an answering machine. I left a message and called Helen. "Helen, she's just not here. I waited a half hour before I made a phone call. She has my cell phone number, so she could call me if there's a problem. I feel like a fool waiting any longer. I guess I'll just have to go home."

"Sorry about that. You go on home and I'll make some calls tomorrow and try to find out what happened."

Around noon on Saturday my phone rang. Helen said, "At the last minute she chickened out. I told her she should have called you but she said she didn't know what to say. I tried to tell her that was very inconsiderate but she just didn't get it. So scratch Gloria. I'll try again."

The Absolute, Unconditional Guarantee

Helen called on Monday morning. "Here's the new plan. On Friday night you go to the Fireside restaurant at eight. Ask to be seated at Mary's table. You have my absolute, unconditional guarantee that this one will work out right."

Tuesday was house cleaning day. I wanted everything to be extra special. "Helen, please put the new sheets on the bed and turn down the covers. You can stick the revolver in the drawer of the nightstand. If you'll please put a sheet and pillow on the living room sofa I'll sleep there till Friday, so I don't get the bed messed up.

The hours seemed to drag, waiting for Friday night. On Wednesday I had my car detailed. Back at home I checked over the outfit I planned to wear, matching my good silk jacket with this pair of slacks and that one. On Thursday I shined my shoes, just before I went out and bought a new shirt. I was like a schoolgirl getting ready for her senior prom. No amount of self-administered pep talks could dampen my nervousness. After all, this date was guaranteed to work out, so I had to make sure I did my part to perfection. On Friday afternoon I went to a florist shop and got a bouquet of mixed flowers for the table. I hadn't been this nervous about a date since I was sixteen.

I dressed carefully, got into the car very slowly to make sure I didn't drag my pant leg against the sill of the driver's door and leave a dirty mark, sat down carefully in my shirtsleeves, and laid my jacket across the passenger seat so it wouldn't get wrinkled driving to the Fireside. This was going to be the date of all dates, and I wasn't about to let anything mess it up. At the restaurant I gave the flowers to the maitre d' to be put into a vase and brought to the table. He handed them off to a waiter and escorted me to a table where a lady was already seated. Approaching from her back, I could see that she was wearing an elegant dress with a light scarf that went around her neck and was flipped back over her left shoulder, and I could see that in her upswept coiffure she had tiny rose buds. Talk about fancy! As the maitre d' pulled out the chair for me, I bowed slightly and said, "Hello, Mary. I'm . . ."

My mystery date raised her beautifully made up face to me with a smile and said, "I know who you are. Sit down and take a deep breath. Your jaw is sagging."

"But . . . but . . . I thought . . . Mary. What . . ."

"That's my middle name. My mother picked Mary after her mother, and Helen after her aunt. For heaven's sake, breathe before you pass out. There's not a thing to worry about. I told you this date is guaranteed to work, and I meant it. No more screwups. I've already ordered our dinner, complete with appetizers and wine. Just relax and go with the flow. Later on, when we leave here and go to your house for a nightcap, you're sure to score if you feel like it. You'll find I'm a lot better than a goat. And if everything goes as I expect, you'll never be lonely again." Slight pause. "Or for that matter, neither will I."

And she was right. We never were.