The bell rang and he looked at the woman sliding into the chair opposite him. She had thick brown hair and something of the Mediterranean about her.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
He smiled and said “I’ve never done this before.”
She laughed. “Neither have I!”
He didn’t believe her. “I’m Anthony by the way.”
“Carmela,” she extended her hand across the little table. “Pleased to meet you.”
Her hand was soft and cool. “So what do you do Carmela?”
“I’m an estate agent,” she patted the air. “But I’m not evil, really! What do you do?”
“I’m an author.”
“Wow, had anything published?”
He smiled. “The third book of my trilogy is coming out later this year.”
She leaned forwards, revealing her cleavage. He resisted the tug at his eyes to look down into it. “That’s so exciting. I’ve always wanted to meet a novelist. Do you have an agent?”
He nodded. “Yes, he’s-”
“Oh wow, could you introduce us? I’ve written a romance called ‘The Lady’s Salvation’ set in the eighteenth century and it’s about this woman who’s left destitute when her father dies and this evil solicitor diddles her out of the will, so she has to go and live at this amazingly wealthy Lord’s house and teach his child as a Governess, but then they fall in love, and the Lord finds out about the solicitor and puts it all right. Then they get married, but not because she needs to – ‘cos by this point she’s independently wealthy – but because they love each other.”
He realised she’d stopped and blinked a couple of times, wondering if her prose contained such long sentences. He took a breath to reply, but she spoke first.
“Could you introduce me to your agent? I’m not getting anywhere, and it’s all about who you know in publishing, isn’t it?”
“Well… my books are science-fiction thrillers. My agent doesn’t represent romance novels.” And thank God for that, he thought.
“Oh,” she said, shoulders dropping, breasts retreating. Then she perked up. “I could so easily re-write it so that the solicitor is actually an… an alien from the-”
The bell rang. “Next!” called out the speed dating host. “People on the outside move one to the right!”
He smiled thinly and shook her hand. “Good luck with the novel,” he said as she slid her phone number across the table.
He had enough time to sip his drink before a blonde took Carmella’s place. “Stephanie,” she smiled, shaking him by the hand.
He smiled back, liking her blue eyes. “Anthony.”
“So what do you do?”
“I’m a novelist.”
“Really?” Stephanie’s eyes brightened and she twisted a lock of hair. “I’m a writer too!”
He perked up. “Really? What kind of books do you write?”
“Oh, sci-fi, and just the one so far.”
He swallowed down the excitement. Maybe the evening was looking up. “I write sci-fi thrillers,” he said, leaning forwards. “My third is being released in a few months.”
“Wow,” she said. “I’d love to be published, but I’m not getting very far. Would you mind reading my manuscript, giving me some pointers?”
He looked at her moist lips, the platinum hair. Oh he was tempted, but he’d promised himself never to do that again. He knew he’d regret it. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t do that, but I can recommend a great freelance editor.”
“Oh.” The hair twirling stopped, she looked away and sipped her drink. He sighed as the bell rang again. “Nice to meet you,” he said but she was already smiling at the next man.
Another brunette arrived, they shook hands. She had a confident air, expensive looking dress, nice figure. He wondered what was wrong with her, and immediately chastised himself. After all, he was here, and there was nothing wrong with him.
“Alexandra,” she said and he introduced himself.
When the inevitable question came, he hesitated. She nodded when he told her, he was relieved to see no change in her behaviour.
“I’m going to write a book,” she said.
“Oh? What about?”
“I have a few ideas. I’m going to write a high-end literary novel. Not looking for commercial success, I don’t need the money, but critical acclaim.”
“Do you write as a hobby?”
“Not yet,” she sipped her drink. “I run an investment firm, but I’ve blocked off a week in August. I’m going to my house in France to write.”
“A whole week?” he failed to keep the sarcasm from his voice. It didn’t seem to penetrate the confident bubble around her.
“What do you write? Have you won any awards?”
“Science-fiction. I was nominated for the…” he trailed off, seeing the curl in her lip.
“Oh. I don’t read that.”
The bell rang. He was growing fond of that sound.
He sat back and took in more of the room, filing the awful experience away for later use.
A blonde sat down with dimples in her cheeks as she smiled. He took in her round face and cheerful eyes, liking her immediately, despite himself.
“I’m Annie,” she said and smiled again when he told her his name. “What do you do?”
“I’m… I’m an office manager.”
Is there anything autobiographic in there? (not the dating, but the constant *oh, I am a writer as well, but…blah…blah…blah*) Very funny little story!
Ha, love it. Poor Anthony. No wonder he lied in the end.
Speed-dating… this is a horror story, right? ;0
Great story, Em.
I’ve always wondered about speed dating and how people do it. If it were me, I always thought I’d say I was an airline pilot but it would be my luck the guy would be one and I’d be busted.
I like it! Well done, Emma! I was right there in the scene and in the character’s head.
BWA-HA-HA-HA!!!! XD
Love it! It’s like every cocktail party I’ve ever been to! Everyone is always trying to sell themselves or listening to pitches! The fact that it’s speed dating adds another level of the mercenary traits of authors. Super fab job, Em.
Poor guy, to be so misunderstood.
I loved the woman who’d set aside an entire week to write the book – Just. Bloody. Perfect.
Nice story, it made me smile and eased the burden of my late shift.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental, I assume.
Thanks!
You have just caused me to laugh out loud in my (fortunately empty) office!
The woman disdainful of sci-fi reminded me of a tale I heard of a film actor’s disdain at finding the person sitting opposite him was in animation. The conversation never progressed to the point at which he learned that person’s name: Walt Disney.
LOL… I am growing fond of that bell ringing too.. this was fun…and o my gosh so true…:)))) hm…an entire week huh? in the south of France..:) Sigh. if only that would do it.
I never realized how many of us writers there are. I loved the one week in France line. Such a common misconception about writing. It’s so easy a cave man can do it. Well done!
What a great story. Poor Anthony, don’t blame him for lying…
Definitely reads of autobiographical detail. Amusing speed-dating and speed-proposing for authors, and exactly why writing conventions can feel like a waste of money. If only you could meet that special someone. You know, make a *connection.*
The poor misunderstood writer! We’re in a world all our own aren’t we! I loved the descriptions of the different women and the revealing & retreating cleavage!
Hah! He finally wised up.
Great story!
Emma! Amazing pacing here, it really fits the mood of the speed dating. Poor fellow. You perfectly captured the mood so well, both in the dating sense and as being a writer and having to tell people about it. This reminds me so much of what I went through in Hollywood, there are so many people who act like that – it really IS a horror story! :O
You had me chuckling throughout. Loved the woman who was going to take a whole week to write a literary masterpiece. Because, folks, yes, it is that easy. Too funny. And his answer about his occupation to the last lady was brilliant. Good story!
Loved the humor of this story. After the first two writers were introduced it was obvious where the story was going (in a fun way). The last response was a great way to break the tension.
Well done
This was fun to read and oh so squeamish to behold. Great humour.
Cracking story, Em! I shall print this out as a reminder, just in case I ever find myself in such a situation. Briliant pacing and very astute characterisations, just what I’ve come to expect from you and you’ve never disappointed me yet.
OH man, that’s definitely horror. I winced the entire read through.
[...] He smiled and said “I’ve never done this before.” Read on… [...]
LOL! This is awesome! I think we’ve all been in this poor guy’s shoes once or twice!
So funny! And so true, especially when you substitute the word “writer” with “artist.” Everybody’s an artist. My wife doesn’t like to read. We’ve been together for years. Could there be a connection?
This was hilarious. I absolutely loved it.
“The bell rang. He was growing fond of that sound.”
That’s a great line. I’m still chuckling. Thank you for brightening my day.
~jon
What a funny and finely written little gem! Clear linear narrative, small sharply drawn characters. Nice work.
You’re a writer? What bad timing (on my part) You would NOT believe that I was going to ask a question… Nah. Joking. Must admit its well true. Happened to me on a couple occasions
Ray
Nice one, Emma! A great chuckle! Thanks, BTW, for the kudos on the Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Zombie, Spock and the Large Hadron Collider, BTW.