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I type in the first thing that comes to mind. AngelEyes. I keep my eyes on the monitor and to the next category so that I can’t see the judgment on my sisters’ faces. Occupation? Editor.
“No one uses their real occupation, Abs,” Lexi says.
“You just have to embellish it a bit more. Like a fast food worker might call themselves a culinary expert or a chef extraordinaire.”
“Really? People really lie about their careers?” I ask, flabbergasted at the idea.
“Of course they do! People lie about everything on these things. I mean, I bet sixty percent of the profile pics aren’t even of themselves,” AJ adds.
“Then what’s the point?” I ask. “Why do all of this if the person you’re talking to isn’t even the person you think they are?”
“Listen, Abs, this is great practice for you,” Lexi says. “You want experience at dating and this will get you that.”
“Yes. Your first goal is to set up a profile. Next, we’ll take the quiz, which will help narrow down guys who have the same interests as you. Then, we’ll scan through the guys and see if anyone draws your interest. From there, you strike up conversations,” AJ instructs.
“No talking about romance novels, though,” Lexi adds.
“Right. And Levi. You can’t talk about your male best friend when you’re trying to attract a new male into your life,” AJ says.
So begins the process of setting myself up on a dating site. I answer the questions in the quiz as truthful as possible, even though Tweedledee and Tweedledum are chirping in my ear, trying to make me sound better than I am. The thing they may not realize is that I really am that boring and lame.
After the quiz, PerfectDate.com has matched me up with fourteen potential date candidates. Together, we set out to find out if my future someone is in the mix.
The first two are nixed right away. The first, someone with hair longer than my own. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but it’s just not for me. The second had a culinary expert listed as his occupation, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about him flipping burgers at the local Burger King. Not that it’s not a reputable job, but I keep picturing a thirty-five-year-old man, living at home with his parents, playing video games all day long, and going off to work at the BK every night.
The third guy has potential. Shaggy blond hair that reminds me of the surfer type, with striking blue eyes. His hobbies are completely outdoorsy, and even though that’s not my thing, I can’t get over the fact that I need to start somewhere, right? So, I click the thumbs up beside his profile, which categorizes him for me to make contact with later.
“Oh my God, Abs, look at that one! I think that’s a bong he’s holding in his profile pic,” AJ says, causing Lexi to laugh, while I groan. Drugs definitely are a deal breaker for me.
“Gross,” I grumble, sliding past him. “Wait look at this one.”
“Oh, he screams bad boy. Click him,” Lexi exclaims.
“His ears are pierced. A lot,” I notice.
“It bet he has other things pierced too,” AJ chimes in, her green eyes lighting up with something dirty.
“Hey, don’t knock piercings. Some of them are really…effective,” Lexi adds, her own smirk plastered across her face.
“There’s a story there, I can tell. Spill,” AJ directs.
“Motorcycle boy in high school had a piercing,” Lexi whispers before breaking out into a giggle fit.
“Really?” I ask, completely curious now about the whole piercing thing. I mean, is his, you know, pierced? A nipple? Why am I blushing? Why do I find that thought completely hot?
“Oh, yeah. They’re…nice,” Lexi adds with a wink.
A gasp mixed with a laugh is muffled from somewhere off to the side. I glance up and see Levi standing in the doorway. “What are you ladies doing?” he asks, walking into the room. I forgot he was coming over for dinner tonight, but mostly I feel slightly guilty for looking at guys right now. And that’s just plain silly, right? I have nothing to feel guilty for.
“Internet dating!” AJ exclaims, happily.
“You’re gonna try that crap? I would have thought you wouldn’t waste your time and energy on that bullshit, AJ,” he says, stepping up behind me. I can practically feel the heat radiating from his muscular body.
“Not me, big guy,” AJ teases with a knowing smile. “Abby.”
I swear he chokes on the very air he breathes.
“Abby?” he asks, glancing down at me with hard eyes. “You can’t do that,” he says automatically.
