“Your mother’s going to be calling to see how the date went and she’ll be disappointed that there aren’t going to be grandchildren in the future anytime soon.”
Ella sighed. “OK, I’m coming over. But only one glass of wine and since dining with Bachelor Number Three killed my appetite, I’m bringing over burgers.”
“My hero.”
Two
After one too many episodes about the glories of the 1980s, and a glass of wine following an overly greasy hamburger and French fries, Ella was feeling half-sick. Especially when she saw what Serena was doing.
“I told you I’m not doing internet dating any more.”
“See, the problem is you’ve just hit the wrong websites,” Serena was saying in the enthusiastic tone she got after a few glasses of wine. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea, you just have to be fishing in the right ocean.”
“I think you’re mixing metaphors there.”
“Whatever. What about this one?” Serena clicked on a website that showed smiling, happy couples. One website looked pretty much like the other, and Ella had to think for a moment.
“Tried it. Kept getting guys who wanted to ‘hook up’.”
“What about this one?”
Another website, another group of smiling people. “Sent the guy who wanted to discuss cultural elitism all night.”
“What does that mean?”
“I have no idea.”
“There’s got to be something out there . . .” Serena scrolled down. Then, with a big smile on her face, she clicked a link. “Got it.”
Ella peered over her shoulder. “Future Date? You’re right, that is something pretty out there.”
“This is just too funny; they’ve definitely latched on to a new marketing scheme.” Serena clicked on the “About” page. “Listen to this: ‘Welcome to Future Date! Do you feell ike you’ve dated all the single men in your area? What about in your time? At Future Date, we connect available, single men from the future with women from the past.’”
“What?” Ella looked closer. “They’re not serious.”
“Of course they’re not! What, did you think Soulmate Agency was being serious when they promised to connect you with your metaphysical other half? It’s a marketing ploy, a gimmick. Oh, it gets better, listen to this,” she continued, scrolling up. “‘Each match is based on compatibility – mental, physicaland biological. We run a thorough background check on each interested party to weed out any possible blood-relative connection.’”
“Thank God, because I didn’t want to chance a paradox,” Ella said sarcastically. “But how could they claim that anyway? There are possible variables for any decision. I could have married Bachelor Number Three tonight and had a great-great-great grandson who’s trolling this website as we speak in one future.”
“But you didn’t.”
“But who’s to say I didn’t in that future?” Ella pointed out.
“But in order for you to meet Mr Future Date and live happily ever after with him, you didn’t have kids with anyone other than him, so that negates the possibility that you’re his great-great-great grandmother or whatever from an alternate future. I think. Stop it. You’re making my head hurt. The real point is they do a background check on everyone, which is good, because that way you know you’re not dating a convicted sex offender or something. They just dress it up in silly sci-fi nonsense.”
“I don’t know, Serena,” Ella said. “Who would sign up for something like this?”
“Someone else who gets the joke and just wants to have fun and meet someone new. They probably just connect people out of different time zones or something. That’s the ‘future’ bit.” Serena was already clicking the “Sign Up Now!” button.
“I don’t know if I want a long-distance relationship.”
“Oh, relax. They’re not asking you to travel into the future for him. He comes to you.” Serena winked. “Now, you were born in Warren, right?”
“No, absolutely not.” Ella shook her head. “I’m not doing this. I’m not getting set up on another blind date, this one is practically guaranteed to be bad.”
“You don’t know that . . .”
“It’s a website that’s set up like a bad science-fiction movie. And I’m not that into science fiction. And there’s always the possibility I’ll get someone who’s serious about it and really believes they are a time travel er . . . No.” She shook her head again for emphasis. “I’m not doing it.”
