By John Leatherman
“Some of those subcontractors I worked with in the overseas offices couldn’t take a hint if it came with fries and a gift certificate and stuff.” Joe chuckles, the chandeliers of the hotel’s grand meeting hall glistening on his scalp. “I know we only have three minutes, Ethel, but I could tell you some stories…”
As Joe—aka Guy #12—launches into an account of auditing the Antwerp agency, I toss my chestnut braid and glance at my notepad, pen raised. I’m pretending to take notes on each of my speed-dating suitors, but the pad actually does that for me. Merely waving my writing implement back and forth causes the page to fill with more insight than I could ever muster in the moment.
Joe may be smart and funny, but I’ll never see past that hairline.
Superficial or not, I know it’s true. The pad not only records what I’m currently thinking, it projects my future thoughts.
Midway through his rambling tale, Joe makes an abrupt pivot. “Listen, Ethel, I don’t think we’re making a connection here, are we?”
Blushing, I speak with a slight rasp. “No, not really.”
Joe shrugs. “That’s okay, I’m not for everyone. I’ll just shut up and give you a little break. You’re really sweet to listen to me yammering and stuff.”
“It’s all right. Nice meeting you, Joe.”
Joe turns to face the next chair in the outer circle, currently occupied by Guy #11, a short, hairy fellow chatting with Gal #11, the young redhead to my right.
I look down at my pink Excel-i-Date speed-dating reply form. At the top is my gal number, twelve, and below are thirty numbered checkboxes, one for each of the guys.
I pencil a light question mark next to box #12. I might take a chance and check it in ink, but the notepad is usually quite reliable in its predictions.
As I rip off the top page and stash it in my handbag, the buzzer sounds.
Joe takes his blue form and rotates out, and Guy #13 takes his seat across from me. He’s a slim, brown-haired man in a neon magenta button-down and blood orange tie, handwritten name tag identifying him as “Spark.” I like his green eyes and the tawny curl dancing on his forehead.
“Spark, I’m Ethel. I hope you don’t mind if I take notes.” I hold up my notepad and pen. “So, my life is pretty boring. I’m just a bookkeeper for my family’s business. Tell me about yourself.”
He shrugs. “Oh, I do so many things that it’s hard to narrow down. Fencing, rock climbing, navigation…”
Pretending to write, I check the pad.
He’s cute and charming, but I’m not sure about the way he likes to stand out. My business thrives on invisibility.
Amid a story about a speedboat he “aggressively borrowed,” Spark pauses and shifts his tone. “I know this all sounds like fun and adventure, but it’s all about what’s best for my business. I’ve built up a wide variety of extreme experiences I can draw on to impress potential investors in my side ventures.”
Sensing the pad has more to tell me, I make the writing motions again.
Investors? What will he do when he finds out my family has money?
Spark again amends his self-description. “Not that I’m hurting in that area, you understand. I’m already sitting on a goldmine of sorts. Have you heard of semi-fungible tokens?” Not waiting for a reply, he explains. “If you’ve got holdings of any amount that need to maintain their value, this is a financial revolution you need to get in on. The account holder secures their proof of stake with an AI-generated…”
Can’t argue with the pad. He’s not interested in me, just my fortune.
Of course I’m not going to check him on my form. But I also need to ensure he doesn’t try to follow me.
While Spark continues pitching his scheme, I use my left toe to rotate the selector wheel on my right shoe. I click past the knife, flamethrower, and other countermeasures inappropriate for a hotel ballroom, landing on the smart repellent emitter. I tap the activation button on the heel, and it analyzes Spark’s pheromones to simulate the scent he most abhors.
As the odor silently envelops me, I watch the shift in Spark’s demeanor.
“…then after the blockchain subroutine returns the integrated configuration, we process the quantum coin-bits with a…” He pauses in a full-body she-smells-like-what??? cringe and suddenly becomes less enthusiastic. “Uh, well, to be honest, a lot of it’s still theoretical…”
Pickles. Interesting.
Strange. Spark seemed to know exactly what I was thinking about him. Just like Joe.
I glance at him again, regaling Gal #11 with his Antwerp story.
The sheen on Joe’s forehead isn’t from the chandeliers; it’s from the next girl’s glasses. They’re almost as thick as mine.
And are her eyes blue and green?
I cut my gaze back to the notepad, but I let it blur, focusing my sight closer.
There I see it—my own words reflected in the lenses of my glasses.
These guys can see my thoughts—thanks to my astigmatism!
How can I avoid giving these guys an unfair advantage? I could take off my glasses or stop checking my notepad.
After a moment of pondering, I come to a decision. For now, it’s better to see what’s right in front of me than the future.
I chuck the notepad into my handbag. I might lose some insights, but at least the next guy won’t be able to read my mind.
The buzzer sounds. Spark leaps from the chair, and Guy #14 takes his place—brown-haired and olive-skinned with a compact, sturdy frame. “Greetings, Ethel. Call me Zai.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I love how you utilized so many of the characters from this season—that was so fun!
Ha! Love the integration of past multiversal characters in a speed-dating social! Now I’m just wondering where Phezz fits in. He’s probably #9… hitting it off with Kytt!
Maybe you noticed the “short, hairy guy” talking to Kytt? :}
Haha! Love it. Short, hairy guy 🤣 Suppose he is! Who couldn’t resist a sweet ball of fur?!
It’s fitting Spark is there plugging SFTs. He doesn’t need to date, he’s already found the love of his life (a mirror).
Poor Ethel–she should’ve checked those glasses.
Nice to see the previous characters from this season making a comeback!
Funny! A really great story on its own, but it’s made even better by including our past characters. Nice one!
I loved how you incorporated past characters into this! Such a great idea. And that ending! Poor Ethel, with her glasses giving her away!