Roger walked through the door wondering what was going to be in store for him this time. As he walked down the hallway, he remembered the first two dates he went on through "Two Hearts Dating Service." The first one, Janice, went horribly wrong. She was not what he was expecting at all, full of piercings and tattoos. The second, Patricia, was so full of herself and consumed with her cell phone that they never had a conversation. He thought that if he would have walked out halfway through dinner, she wouldn't have even noticed.
He opened the door to the office of the service. He sat waiting to see Mrs. Harris, the director of the agency, in the reception area and looked at all the pictures of the happy couples she had matched. He began to wonder why he was here in the first place. Then he remembered how he could never seem to find the right girl for him. They were always the ones that were either a little psycho and would always turn up wherever he went, or they were the kind that would cheat on him just a few weeks into their relationship. He didn't trust himself to find the right one for him, so he took his best friend's advice and signed up at Two Hearts.
The door off of the reception area opened and Mrs. Harris came out to greet Roger. She was an older lady who wore too much jewelry and make-up. With each step toward him her bracelets and necklaces jangled and clanged together. Roger stood up and they shook hands before she took him back to her office.
"Now, I know things have not gone exactly to plan over the last couple of weeks, but I think we have finally found what you are looking for," Mrs. Harris said as they sat down.
"Her name is Cassandra. She is just about your age, in her early-20s. Here is her picture."
She gave the photo to Roger. He looked down and was happy to see it. Cassandra had dark hair and hazel eyes, with a slight tint of green in them. Roger was smiling when he looked back up at Mrs. Harris.
"She is gorgeous," he said. "She has agreed to go out on the date?"
"Yes," Mrs. Harris told him. "In fact, she is awaiting your call. She is looking forward to meeting you. I think we may have found you the right one, Roger."
He took Cassandra's phone number from the receptionist, hurried home and called her. The two agreed on a date that night, with both of them driving to the restaurant and meeting there. Roger was very nervous, and for him that was unusual. He never got nervous before going out on a date, especially with the other two girls from the agency.
He got dressed in jeans and a suit jacket with a nice collared shirt, and headed downtown.
After parking his car, Roger walked through the door of the restaurant and saw Cassandra sitting down by the maitre' d's podium looking at the menu. He remembered her picture and thought that it didn't really do her justice. She was wearing her long hair down, so it cascaded a little past her shoulders, a nice pair of black slacks and a sweater. He also noticed she was wearing a pair of glasses.
"Cassandra?" he said as he walked up to her.
She looked up, smiled at him, said "Roger," and extended her hand. Just then, the hostess came up to them and told them that their table was ready.
When they sat down, Roger kept staring at her. He could tell she noticed it, but was trying to keep her eyes on the menu she was studying.
"I-I-I'm sorry," he stammered, "but the picture you have at the agency is not a good likeness of you."
Cassandra's eyes got wide, as if she were offended. "What do you mean?"
"No, no . . . Don't get me wrong," he tried to recover. "I just meant that you are much prettier in person than in that photo. And you are stunning in the picture."
She started to turn red. "Thanks," she said as she tucked at few strands of hair behind her left ear.
Their waitress came over and took their orders while the two of them started getting to know each other. They discussed what each of them did for a living, how they spent their free time, and why each of them ended up going to the dating service in the first place.
"I just moved here," Cassandra said. "A new city and state, so I know no one. All of the guys at work are so full of themselves that I would never want to date them. And, to be honest, none of them are very attractive. Older, much older."
Roger started laughing as she smiled at him. "That's horrible," he managed to say through it.
"But its true," she said starting to laugh with him. "A couple of them could be old enough to be my grandfather. That's just wrong." She stared at him, smiling. "Your turn. Why did you go to Mrs. Harris?"
He took a deep breath and a sip of his wine. "I can't seem to find the right girl," he said.
"Every girl I go out with is either too shallow, turns out to be a mental case, or sleeps with half of the guys in town. So, my friend talked me into signing up. He said that since he found his present girlfriend through them, he thought they could help me find the right one."
"And have they?"
"So far, no," he said. "But then again, you are the third woman I have met through them and this seems to be going much better than the first two."
"Number three, huh?" she said. "What were the first two like?"
"Horrifying," he said, causing her to laugh.
"What do you mean?"
"The first one," he said before he swallowed a bite of bread, "was full of piercings. Not just a couple here or there. I mean they were everywhere. She looked like a pin cushion."
"It couldn't have been that bad," she said with a giggle.
"You have no idea," he said. "I bet that if she were to board a plane, she would have to spend an hour taking them all out just to walk through the metal detector."
"Oooo, that's bad," she said.
"Yep," he said, nodding. "And the second one was attached to the ear with her cell phone. The damn thing must have rang about twenty times just during dinner."
"No!" she said, smiling widely.
"It's true," he said. "Made me want to throw mine in a lake somewhere."
"I'll bet."
"How about you? How many bad ones have you been on?"
"This is actually my first," she said.
"Really? And how are you liking it so far?"
"Can't complain . . . but will have to reserve judgment for later," she said with a smirk.
They finished their meal and continued to talk about everything. When the waitress came over with the check, Roger paid it, and the two of them got up and left.
"What are your plans for the rest of the evening?" Roger asked as he walked Cassandra to her car.
"Nothing, really," she answered. "Why?"
