“Here’s your first match.” Amy, the CEO, handed me a sheet of paper.
I looked up at her, surprised. “Already?” Her assistant had just finished reviewing the contract with me.
“We’ve been thinking about him for you all along. His name is Ari Vallianos. He’s Greek.”
“Uhhhh,” I stammered quickly. “But I said I don’t like guys with accents.”
Amy continued to pace around the small but airy, feminine, well-decorated office that was Linx. She went from glancing at the laptop to the printer, to the closet, and answered my stammer while doing her office dance. “He doesn’t have an accent. He’s of Greek heritage, but he’s American. No accent.”
I was so pleased with how the interview and signing process went. But after she announced my first match, I started to have doubts. I took the profile and shoved it in my bag with the contract.
I gathered my belongings as Amy and Mary Anne escorted me to the door. Amy handed me a notecard and gave me a hug for joining.
“Just in time,” Amy muttered as she glanced at the clock on the wall. “There’s a client waiting downstairs.”
I descended the stairway, exited the office building, and ran straight into a pretty, tall blonde. “Great,” I sighed. “More competition.”
I drove from Palo Alto to Marc’s place. He calls his neighborhood Potrero Flats. He’s too snooty to admit he lives in the Mission. He poured me a glass of wine as soon as I walked in.
“So, I have my first match.”
“TELL ME ABOUT HIM!”
“I haven’t read his profile yet. It’s in my bag.”
“Give it to me.” I handed the profile over. “You swear you haven’t read this yet?”
“No, I wanted to wait until I got here. I figured I’ll have someone else read it first. You can prepare me. I’m not sure if I have a good feeling about him.”
“Ok, let’s see. Ari Vallianos. What the fuck? I mean, seriously, what the fuck?”
“Shut up. Let me read. Ok he’s 40. 5’10”. Very short/shaved hair. That means he’s balding. He practices pilates. That means he’s gay. He works in the fine art and design industry. That means he didn’t go to school and is uneducated. So far, I think you’ve totally wasted your money. Let me keep reading. He is a spiritual man. Oh shit, you’re getting setup with an atheist. No pictures, right? Just this piece of paper?”
I nodded. “But I have his full name so I can google him.”
“The only one good thing in this profile is the physical description that lists his piercing blue eyes. Otherwise, I think you got a gay, artsy, dummy.”
I pouted. “Whatever, I’ll look him up later. And they’ve got to start somewhere. They know I’m really into the arts so she thought he’d be a good fit. At least he sounds interesting. Art curator? That’s pretty cool.”
“Do you want to google him?”
“No, I’ll do that later. I just want to drink my wine.”
As soon as I came home, I took out the sheet of paper and glanced over everything Marc had read. Marc was just being Marc. Ari sounded attractive. In fact, he sounded really interesting. I started with Facebook and easily found his profile. Yikes, he looked gay. In his profile picture, he was wearing all white, dancing around on the beach, wearing sunglasses. It wasn’t a close-up. You couldn’t see any of his facial features, but on first inspection, he really did look gay. Oh no! I’ve been setup with some euro metrosexual dancing on the beach. He had hundreds of pictures, downloaded albums from his world-wide travels. As I clicked through the albums, my heart started racing. I moved in closer to my laptop and zoned into him. Picture after picture. Diving, swimming, artwork, posing, a friend’s wedding reception, black tie, sunbathing with bare chest on a boat.
“Oh my God…Holy shit…How did she do it?”
I was talking to myself, talking out loud.
“How the fuck did she do it?”
I was insanely attracted to him. I couldn’t stop staring. The well-built physique, the piercing blue eyes, the traveling, the friends, the life.
“She has found my perfect match.”