[Ellie's Story] Dating Deliberation

 “Sorry for the short notice,” said Sacha, standing outside the steps of my building. “I need it for some work this weekend.”

 “No problem, Sacha," I replied. "I was done stealing all of your music from it anyway. I had meant to return it to you sooner.” It was a cold, blustery Friday and I had agreed to meet Sacha outside my apartment after work so that I could return his portable hard drive. I opened the doors and we walked into the warm musty lobby of my old apartment building.

“Hey, can you come with me for a sec to the laundry room?” I asked. “I just need to post up my roommate ad to the bulletin board.” I dug around my bag and pulled out a hard copy of the roommate ad I had created last week. It had been sitting in my bag for a while and somehow I kept forgetting to post it.

Sacha took the ad out of my hand and read it aloud. “‘I’m a working professional in my mid-20’s, and a cat owner…tendency to be a night owl. Looking for a non-smoking female roommate…am generally a tidy person.’”

I snatched the paper out of his hands. “Hey, give that back. I need to post it,” I said as I walked towards the back of the building where the laundry room was located.

Sacha snickered at me. “I dunno about the ‘tidy’ part, Ellie. You might want to change that.”

“Okay, smart ass. When you come up, tell me how messy I am. I’ll prove you wrong.” I challenged him, since I had just cleaned my apartment yesterday.

Sacha laughed. “I’m just kidding, Ellie. Sheesh, someone’s sensitive.”

I shook my head at Sacha. We were in the laundry room now, and I pinned my ad up in an empty spot on the community bulletin board.

“Hello, Ellie!” said a voice behind me. I turned around and saw Mrs. Klein, who lived down the hall from me. She was walking in slowly with her laundry basket gripped in her small hands.

“Hi Mrs. Klein,” I said, walking over to her and reaching for her basket. “Here, let me help you with that.” I placed the basket on one of the large tables beside a washing machine.

“Thank you. You’re such sweet girl.” Mrs. Klein said. She looked up and noticed Sacha beside me. She smiled and winked at me. “Is that your new boyfriend?”

“No, Mrs. Klein,” I said, smiling apologetically to Sacha who was standing there awkwardly. “This is Sacha, he’s just my good friend. I’ve known him for years.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! And here I thought you had found someone after David. You deserve someone nice, Ellie. Someone smart.” Mrs. Klein adjusted the small glasses on her delicate face. Her grey hair was tied back today, different from her usual pouf of curls that I was used to seeing.

Mrs. Klein had witnessed David moving out. Ever since she heard of our breakup, she had insisted that I find someone else who was “worthy” of me. “I know there are a few new tenants who’ve just moved into the building,” she continued, “one fellow last month and another one just a couple of weeks ago. I met one of them. He seemed smart.” Mrs. Klein thought everyone was smart. Including the annoying kid on the second floor who bashed his toys against the lobby walls every time he walked by.

I forced a smile. “I’m sure he is, Mrs. Klein. And I’m sure I’ll meet all of the new tenants at the next building potluck.”

“Oh yes, you should,” replied Mrs. Klein. “You should be with someone nice, Ellie. You’re such a nice girl.”

Sacha looked at me, eyebrows raised in mild amusement.
“I should get going,” I said, needing to end this conversation before Sacha laughed out loud.

“I’ll see you later, Mrs. Klein!” I hurried out of the room, Sacha following behind me.

“Are all of your neighbours this invested in your well-being?” Sacha asked, his eyes

betraying the laugh he was trying to hide.   

“Just her,” I replied. “She knows the whole story about David.”

“Ah,” Sacha replied simply, stifling his laugh. “Nice lady, anyway.”

We were walking down the hallway back to the main elevator when my phone rang. It was Madison.

“Have you given any thought about Simon?” she asked without small talk.

I stopped midstride. Sacha paused as well and we both stood in the middle of the hallway.

“Uh…no. Should I? I thought you said I could think about it.”

“Well yeah. But he called me today, asking about you and when he could meet you.”

“He asked about me?” My voice rose up a few pitches. “Why would he ask about me?” I sensed Sacha watching me with curiosity, and I turned away to face the wall instead.

 “Well…” Madison hesitated. “When I initially met him, I sort of let slip that you were single and that I thought you two would hit it off.” She sighed quietly. “That was the only reason we exchanged numbers in the first place, Ells. I wouldn’t have otherwise. I mean, he’s a complete stranger, really.”

“You didn’t tell me that, Maddie.” I tried to keep my patience. “So now this guy’s expecting to meet me? Some complete stranger that you met?”

“Well, he seemed really nice, Ellie. And he gave me his business card, which I checked out on the internet. He seems legit. But if you want, I could call the whole thing off.”

I shook my head in frustration. “Geez Maddie. I don’t know what to think. Anyway, can I talk to you later about this? I’m just with Sacha right now.”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry Ellie. Call me later.” Madison replied in a low voice.

I hung up the phone.

“What was that all about?” Sacha asked.

I sighed. “Madison’s being…Madison.”

“Uh…okay. I’m not sure what that means, but it sounds like you’re in some kind of trouble.” Sacha paused, and then he peered at me strangely. “Madison’s not trying to hook you up with a loan shark or something, is she? Because honestly, if you need the cash, I can spot you, El.”

I gave Sacha a hard glare. “Really, Sacha. You do think highly of me sometimes.” I shook my head. “Madison’s just being a brat,” I muttered. “She’s trying to set me up with a stranger that she just met off the street.”

We walked the rest of the hallway, returning to the main lobby area. I pressed the elevator button.

“Ah, good to know it’s not the loan sharks,” said Sacha, “but just some unfortunate bachelor off the street. And you’re obviously hesitant.”

 “Of course I’m hesitant. I don’t know this guy. All I know is that his name is Simon and he works at a law firm. Would you go out with some stranger named Simon?”

 “Simon at a law firm,” Sascha repeated, a smirk creeping on his face. “Sounds…sexy,” Sacha joked. “Well, for a dorky name.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. The dorky part, anyway, I mentally thought.

“Well, you should at least meet the guy,” Sacha said, looking at me seriously. “If you’re…you know, desperate.” He looked at me ominously. “Maybe he’s The One.”

The elevator doors opened and we stepped in. There was already a man in it, dressed in a nice blue dress shirt and dark grey tie. I noticed that the elevator smelled much better than the musty lobby – like vanilla somehow. I pressed the button to my floor and scooted over to the side of the elevator to make room for Sacha.

Cognizant of the man in the elevator, I lowered my volume.

 “I’m not desperate. It’s only been two months. And who knows if there even is a One.”

“But you’ve always believed in things like true love and The One,” replied Sacha, his volume unchanged.

I flinched and decided that maybe it was best act nonchalant. “I’m not sure what I believe anymore,” I said, still trying to keep my volume low - but not too low as to sound secretive.  The elevator stopped at my floor, and we exited the elevator. When the doors closed behind us, I resumed my normal volume. “Especially since David left,” I added. "My faith's a bit shot right now." We walked the short stretch of hallway before stopping at my door. I reached for the keys in my bag and opened my door.

 MoMo was already waiting in the hallway, tail lifted up and head nuzzling against my leg. I leaned down to pet him.

“Well, just because David wasn’t The One doesn’t mean there isn’t a One,” Sacha reasoned.

“Right, and you’re such a big believer in The One, Sacha, what with you dating so many girls all the time.”

“Hey, you have your dating philosophy, and I have mine.”

“And are you happy?” I asked, studying him.

“Don’t I look happy?” he replied, deliberately putting on a stoic expression.

“Not like that, you don’t,” I laughed. “Here, let me get your drive.” I dropped my purse on the floor and went in search of Sacha’s portable hard drive.

“Hey, you’re right. Your place isn’t as messy as I imagined,” commented Sacha. “Except for all the nail polish bottles.” He picked one up off the floor. “‘Rescue Beauty Lounge’,” he read. “I like how this is marketed to make women feel like they have inadequate nails unless they paint them with this. Rescue in a bottle…man, I totally should have thought of it first.”

“Stop analyzing my stuff.” I handed Sacha his hard drive, squinting my eyes at him. People got free smiles at McDonald’s. Here at Ellie’s, people got free evil eyes. Especially Sacha.

“Sorry, occupational habit.”

“Did you want something to drink or eat?”

“Nah, I should get back. I’m meeting up with Deborah tonight. Thanks though.”

“Who’s that?”

“This girl I met at this networking function last month.”

“Ahhh,” I said, extending the word, eyeing Sacha with lifted brows. I waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. “Okay then,” I said, too lazy to prod, “have fun with Deborah then.”

I had stopped keeping track of Sacha’s dating history since 2009. I promised myself that I would start keeping track again if any of his dates manage to pass the 3-month mark.

“So what are you going to tell Madison?” Sacha asked. “Are you going to meet this Simon?”

“I don’t know,” I pondered. “Maybe. I’ll see how I feel later,” I decided.

“And Ellie, your living room looks barren. When are you going to get a coffee table?”

“I dunno, Sacha,” I replied, giving him yet another evil glare, which was hopefully my last of the evening. “I’ll see how I feel later.”

[Ellie's Story] Buying & Bills

I stood underneath a store awning to avoid the rain and waited at the corner of Broadway Street and Cambie Street, watching the bustle of everyone rushing to get home after the day’s work. Street traffic was just starting to get dense, and the cars were slowing down in speed, unable to move any faster than a crawl. I nursed two Starbucks cups in both hands, enjoying their warmth as I kept an eye out for Sacha, who had promised to help me shop for a TV this Friday evening.

It wasn’t long before I spotted a familiar figure in a long charcoal grey overcoat matched with a navy knit scarf heading towards me. I looked up and smiled at Sacha, offering one of the coffee cups I held. Seeing the sparkling droplets sprinkled over his dark brown hair, I smiled at my friend whom I’ve known since my university days.

“Leave your umbrella at home?” I chided, opening my own after Sacha took the coffee from my hand.

“No – at work, actually,” he responded, taking a quick sip from the cup. “Thanks. This is exactly what I needed after schlepping around in this…stuff.” He grimaced, looking down at his black leather shoes, covered with slushy snow melted by the rain. “I think I preferred the freezing cold of yesterday. At least the snow was still solid.”

I looked at Sacha’s shoes, tilting my head in thought. “You need man boots.”

“Yes, and those would go really well with my dress pants. I thought you were supposed to be good with fashion, Ellie,” Sacha said, taking the umbrella from my hand since I was having trouble holding it six feet above the ground to accommodate his height. “I hope you’re not writing about men’s fashion in your next blog entry.”

I gave Sacha a glare. “Hey, I could…if I wanted.”

“Then do your readers a favour and make sure I approve of it before you hit ‘Post’.” Sacha raised his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth curled upward in a growing smile.

Or a smirk. The smug bastard.

I squinted my eyes at him, trying to look evil. “I’m not one of your subordinates, mister. Don’t treat me like one of your office clerks. I don’t need you to approve anything,” I said, trying to sound as cocky as he looked.  

“Sorry shorty. It’s just that you look a bit like our new marketing assistant. I get you two confused sometimes.”

“You snob,” I simply retorted, unable to outwit Sacha for the gazillionth time. “I don’t know why I still hang out with you.”    

“Because you need to learn better banter,” Sacha said matter-of-factly, not missing a beat. “And, because I know my electronics.”

We walked north along Cambie Street, heading for the Best Buy near 6^th Street. Jokes aside, we moved the conversation along to what kind of a TV I’d like to buy, and what brands were the best. Even though Sacha was good with electronics, I was hesitant to buy anything based on specs alone. I explained that I really wanted to make sure that this new TV fit into my apartment, unlike the last one, which apparently was top-of-the-line, but was way too big for our apartment – courtesy of David’s decision.

“It needs to look nice with my TV stand,” I stated. “I need to visually like it.”

“Pun intended?”

“No. Um…yes. Geez – I dunno,” I mumbled. We had just walked into the Best Buy and I was overwhelmed by the bright lights and goods displayed everywhere. We headed towards the section with televisions. The store was relatively quiet since it was mid-January, way past the boxing week sales madness. Sacha and I walked down the first row of televisions displayed and was quickly approached by a sales person, eager to help.

“Looking for a TV? For the house? Or a spare room?” he asked. He was an older man in his late forties or early fifties who spoke with a mild accent.

“Uh…neither,” I replied.

“It’s for an apartment,” Sacha interjected. “We’re looking for something between  42 to 50 inches, maybe plasma, 1080p.”

I nodded dumbly, trusting Sacha on…almost everything to do with this television except for its size and visual appeal. I had sworn to make myself do some research beforehand, but dealing with a breakup during the holidays had taken up all of my energy. And now, all I really cared to do is cuddle up on the couch with a new TV, drinking a cup of warm cocoa, my cat snuggled up next to me, and not worry about how it all came to be, 1080p or not.

“We have some good ones on sale,” the salesperson said, snapping me out of my reverie. He walked us over to one television set. “This one is good one, 46 inches, 1080p, plasma display…”

Sacha looked at the label sticker on the set. “Hmm. 120 hertz.” He looked over at me. “You still gaming a lot?”

“What’s ‘a lot’?” I asked. “Maybe once a week? Is that considered a lot?” I ventured.

“Enough to warrant getting something better.”  He turned to the salesperson again. “Do you have anything with 240 hertz?”

I had no idea what Sacha was talking about. Should have done my research, I thought to myself. I focused on some of the other sets that were sitting on the shelves that looked kind of pretty.

“If you need 240 hertz, then I would recommend you getting this one,” he said, pointing to another television set. This one was enormous. “This one is one of our customer favourites.”

Sacha walked over to check out the set.

“It’s huge, Sacha. It would never fit on my stand.”

“It’s 50 inches,” he replied, inspecting the base. “It’s not too bad…it might.”

“Yes, the man knows what he wants,” the salesperson said, winking at me in jest. “We shouldn’t get in the way of a man and his TV.”

      “But it’s going to be my TV,” I said, trying to smile politely.

“Ah,” he said to Sacha with a smile and an understanding look, “I hope the miss isn’t going to fight with you for the remote control.”

Sacha cleared his throat, looking over at me. Should I correct him, or will you? was his silent question to me.

“We’re not together,” I said. No smile now.

Somehow, people always thought Sacha and I were a couple. After half a decade of being friends, it was getting tiresome correcting people. Sacha had told me once that this happened to him all the time, no matter what girl he was with, so obviously it was a problem with him and not me. Maybe he just had the typical “boyfriend” look.

The salesperson sobered. “Oh. I’m sorry miss,” he said, looking from me to Sacha. “You two looked like…”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Sacha said. He quickly changed the topic. “So do you have anything smaller? The ‘miss’ says this one is too big.”

 Fifty minutes later, we were out of the store, with the order and delivery receipts safely tucked in my purse. Based on my budget, I had decided on a 46 inch

 LED television, 1080p and 120 hertz. But most importantly, it would look good with my TV stand. We headed towards Broadway Street again, to find ourselves some dinner.

“Thanks for your help Sacha. It’s great having someone knowledgeable to help me shop. Dinner’s my treat. What do you feel like?”

“Anything,” he said. “I’m starving and can eat a cow.”

“Sorry,” I said to Sacha, “I didn’t realize how late it was.” I quickened my pace to allow him to walk faster. Being much taller than me, Sacha had larger strides and usually slowed down to accommodate my much shorter, Asian-sized strides. I was always struggling to keep pace with him, even though I considered myself a relatively fast walker.

We decided on a sushi restaurant close by, and I readily warmed myself up with the hot matcha tea that was served.

“So how are you doing being alone nowadays?” Sacha asked as we got settled into our seats.

“I’m fine,” I replied. “It’s nice having the place to myself sometimes, being able to toss everything everywhere without a care to what anyone thinks. You know how David was always super neat and tidy.”

Sacha smiled. “Okay, don’t invite me over. I don’t want to see piles of clothes and garbage strewn about.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad!” I defended myself. “But I am worried about my finances.”

“Spending too much?”

“No. Just…a larger mortgage payment now that David’s gone,” I admitted.

Sacha studied me while taking a drink from his tea cup. “If you have no money, then why did you just buy a TV twenty minutes ago?”

“Because I need entertainment! Having a TV is stress-relieving. And I need to relieve pressure,” I emphasized. “C’mon, you should know about that. You’re a guy.” Then I looked closely at Sacha’s finely tailored shirt and high-end cashmere scarf. “Or maybe not. You’re metro.”

“You say that like I’m gay or something.”

“You mean you’re not?” I began to smile, not able to help myself. “Sorry, it’s just that you sort of look like this gay friend that I have. I get confused sometimes,” I retorted, pleased with myself for my late comeback.

Sacha laughed in mock amusement. “You don’t have a gay friend, Ellie. And despite what you think, I’m not it.”

“Not yet,” I grinned at him, trying to look innocent while administering the coup de grâce.

Sacha rolled his eyes, smiling for real this time. The truth was, he was far from being gay, and we both knew it. With his blue eyes and dark hair, Sacha had classic good looks worthy of a Polo ad. As such, Sacha always had a line of girls for dates. The fact that he worked in marketing at a large firm and had tickets to all of the cool client-sponsored events in town certainly kept them coming. Ironically, other than a few dates here and there, Sacha was still single. Of the time I’ve known him since second-year university, Sacha hadn’t dated a girl for longer than six months. I figured that this was due to the fact that his standards were too high. Sometimes I wondered how he ever accepted me as his best female friend, he was so damn picky.  

“Okay, enough jokes about my sexual orientation. Back to the TV,” Sacha said. “Explain why you need one if you’re so short on money.”

“Like I said, it relieves my stress. Believe it or not, being an admin assistant has its pressures too.”

“I don’t doubt that, Ellie. I’m just asking you if you really need a TV for now. Maybe you could hold that off until you save some money.”

“No,” I insisted, “it’s important.” My voice was sombre as I looked at the grains of wood in the table, running my fingers along each line. “Since David left,” I started, thinking of the right way to articulate my thoughts, “the apartment feels…empty.” I looked up at Sacha briefly, unsure he if would laugh at me and tell me that I was being silly. “And I think having something to do, and some lights and sounds in the apartment would fill some of that void.”

Sacha was silent. His right elbow was propped on the table, index finger held up against his nose and chin resting on his thumb. This was his usual “thinking” pose whenever he was deep in thought or evaluating someone. I always wondered if the L-shape that his finger and thumb subsequently made was his private way of calling somebody a loser.

“Could you get a roommate?” he asked.

“That’s exactly what Madison said. I’m hesitant to, which is what I told her too.”

“Because you’re so messy?”

I gave Sacha my evil eye, for the second time tonight. “Like I said, I’m not that messy. Just because you’re a minimalist doesn’t make everyone else a slob. Some of us like to have stuff around us. You know, like furniture and belongings. You ever hear about those?” I referenced the fact that Sacha hardly owned anything. At least, nothing that he displayed in his spiffy loft apartment.

“Sure, coming from the girl who doesn’t even have a TV or a coffee table. I at least have those,” Sacha said.

“Yeah, but that’s all you have. Your place seriously needs a woman’s touch.” I said. “Or actually, anyone’s touch.”

Sacha just chuckled and shook his head. “My place is fine, Ellie. I know having a television is helpful, but so is having a healthy chequing account. If after a few months, you’re not having any extra money to save, then you should look into other options. Like a roommate.”

“Extra money to save? Geez, Sacha, I might not even have money to pay my bills!”

Sacha drank his tea, looking at me seriously. “Room. Mate.”

I threw the floppy laminated menu at him. “Order your food. I’ll think about it.”

On my way home from dinner, I went to check my mailbox. Out fluttered a few flyers, some coupon books and a few undistinguished envelopes. I grabbed everything and went up to my apartment, flipping through them. I got to the envelopes by the time I stepped inside my apartment. I looked at them, sighing.

Mastercard bill. Hydro bill. Internet bill. I threw them on top of my Visa bill which was already sitting on the counter. I opened them, looking at the amounts. I sighed again.

“Roommate indeed,” I muttered to myself.

~ To Be Continued ~