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I fished out my wallet from my back pocket and handed him my driver’s license. He examined it closely before handing it back and selecting a light blue wrist band from the table.
“Right wrist,” he grunted, his words short and to the point.
I couldn’t tell if he had a limited vocabulary or if he just didn’t feel like talking much.
With the wristband firmly secured around my wrist, he pushed open the door for me. As I hesitated at the threshold, he gave me a quizzical look. “Is there something else you need?”
“Can you tell me where to go?”
“You’ll know once you reach the end of the hall.”
Well, that was at least something. I proceeded down the seemingly endless corridor, its walls painted a deep shade of black and illuminated only by dim lighting. Every few feet, there was a closed door with a large, imposing figure dressed in black standing guard. One of them stopped me in my tracks and began to search me before confiscating my cell phone from an inner pocket and placing it in a basket.
“No electronic devices are allowed beyond this point. Your devices will be returned to you upon leaving,” the guard informed me sternly but politely.
With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I pushed open the door and stepped into the unknown darkness beyond. It was pitch black, and I couldn’t see an inch in front of me. Slowly, I extended my arms in front of me to feel my way forward. Before I could take a step, I felt someone’s hands gently grasp my shoulders from behind.
“Don’t be frightened,” a soothing voice whispered in my ear. “I am going to take you to your seat.”
My heart raced with excitement and fear as I followed blindly behind this mysterious guide. Whatever lay ahead in the darkness, I had come this far and was determined to see it through.
As the gentleman took my hand and guided me through the room, I couldn’t help feeling hesitant with each step. The anticipation of meeting my perfect match was both exciting and nerve-wracking. Finally, we reached our seats and as I sat down, my anxiety began to lessen.
“Your perfect match will be here shortly,” the man assured me. “In the meantime, please enjoy a complementary glass of wine.”
I felt a callused hand place a cool wineglass into my hand. Bringing it to my lips, I took a sip and savored the rich flavor on my tongue. Even in the dimly lit room, I was able to find my mouth without spilling a drop—perhaps a survival instinct ingrained in us all. As I took another sip, I couldn’t help but notice the sweet scent of vanilla and ginger filling my senses. It must be my perfect match, as the man had described her, arriving.
“Thank you,” she said in a soft voice.
Just as he had offered me, he offered her a glass of wine. Hearing her voice for the first time sparked images in my mind of what she might look like. Her delicate voice made me imagine her as petite, with silky brown hair and sparkling green eyes.
But before I could continue this train of thought, our guide spoke up again. “You may now begin getting to know each other,” he announced. “However, there are a few rules that must be followed. Breaking any of these rules will result in forfeiture of your place and losing out on the rewards.” He paused momentarily before continuing with a serious tone. “You may not ask for each other’s name, address, occupation, or physical characteristics—eye color, hair color, or anything else pertaining to distinguishing marks—scars, tattoos, and so on. We will allow the use of fake names like Jack and Jill or Harry and Sally. Only touching of hands and faces is allowed—any inappropriate touching such as kissing or fondling will not be tolerated. Someone will be monitoring each table to ensure these rules are followed. Do you both agree to these terms?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“And you, sir. Do you agree with these terms?”
“I agree,” I answered with a hint of hesitation, not knowing what to expect from this night’s unusual encounter.
Even though I could feel him hovering over our table, I wanted to learn everything I could about this woman. Taking a shot, I started first. “May I call you Sally?”
“Only if I can call you Harry,” she replied.
We shared a brief, joyous moment of laughter that revealed a glimpse of this woman’s personality. It was clear that she possessed a sharp sense of humor. As I recalled the list of dating rules, I weighed my next question. “So, what are your thoughts on this unconventional dating process?”
“I find it rather ingenious,” she began. “Too often, people base their choices on superficial things like appearance or wealth. But here, we have the opportunity to get to know each other purely based on our ideas and opinions. It’s a refreshing approach.”
“Do you mind if I hold your hand?” I asked softly.
~7~
Harper
All week, I had been eagerly anticipating this moment, and now it was finally here. Sitting across from me was a man with a voice like silk, and he had expressed his desire to hold my hand. Without hesitation, I offered my hand palm-up on the table and replied, “Yes, you may, Harry.”
A sense of anticipation filled me as I waited for him to find my hand in the dark room. When his fingers finally brushed against mine, an electric jolt shot through my body, sending shivers down my spine. His touch was surprisingly gentle and smooth, not at all rough like that of a typical laborer. This revelation led me to believe that he was likely a white-collar worker, perhaps even an attorney like myself. The thought of finding common ground only added to my growing excitement.
I knew we weren’t supposed to talk about occupations, but I needed to know if I was right. Choosing my words cautiously, I asked, “Chicago is such a beautiful city. Have you seen the new building go up downtown?”
