Zoznamka

Dating

Martin Repa

In the dim light of the night lamp, I scroll through profiles of potential partners.

Short, chubby, unremarkable. Oh God, what’s with this one’s beard? I critique the photos.

No degree, young—probably not well-off. I reject the unsuitable ones.

From the corner of the room, Loneliness grins at me. She moved in three years ago.

“I really don’t feel like talking to you today!” I snap at her.

“I can wait,” she chuckles and sprawls onto the unmade bed.

“Just you wait, I’ll get rid of you!” I mutter, lowering the bar for my selection criteria.

This one might work. He’s older than I’d like, but... I gaze dreamily at the outdated photo.

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Soon, we’ll take the stage, right after the Polish ensemble finishes. Our teacher hurriedly adjusts the  ribbons on our costumes. I scan the faces in the audience.

He’s there, in the front row! My heart skips a beat.

The lead violinist gives a signal, and the cimbalom player begins to play the first notes.

Oh God, he’s smiling! Yesterday, I told him not to smile. Doesn’t he realize it makes me... I forgot the  words, the steps—everything.

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He was from Crimea and had the most beautiful laugh in the world.

A fleeting smile and the blush fade from my cheeks. I click on the profile of a handsome guy. He looks great, such a macho type.

Don’t be foolish, girl! Do you want to get burned again? One was enough! I think of my ex.

A new pop-up appears in the bottom-right corner of the screen.

“Need advice?”

Why not? I glance at Loneliness sprawled on the bed.

“We’re launching a new course. Increase your chances of successful dating. Limited spots. Sign up today!” a new banner flashes.

I have nothing to lose, only to gain. After reading the terms and fees, I sacrifice a hundred euros and fill out the registration form.

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“Good afternoon, please come in and have a seat,” a friendly young woman greets me.

“Good afternoon, thank you,” I sit down, glancing around her office.

“You’re a little late; the session has already started. I’ll briefly explain the process, and you can join the first group, okay?” she smiles.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find the place. My GPS messed up, and...”

“It’s okay, no problem. The important thing is to clarify priorities so we’re not tackling issues you’ve already solved or chasing irrelevant overlaps. Could you briefly describe your current situation and where you see the problem?” She opens a large notebook.

Wait, hold on, not so fast. Some girl isn’t going to lecture me! I think to myself while spouting vague chatter to buy time to figure out what I want to say.

“Sorry, but could you be a bit more specific? Disappointments, lack of time, or thoughts about all the good men already being taken might be facts, but they won’t get you anywhere,” she interrupts. Not very sensitive.

“Will you let me finish?!” I appeal to her empathy, irritated.

“Be honest—what do you really want? Don’t think about what he should be like. First, think about yourself—what do you want to experience?” she takes my hand.

“Well, I... I want to experience unconditional love,” I recall a teenage romance novel.

“Great, see? You can do it,” she smiles and jots something down.

“It’s just hard these days, and besides, we’re not twenty anymore, right?” I try to lighten the confession that has been buried deep inside me.

“Don’t fear honesty. It’s the essence,” she looks me in the eye.

I nod in understanding.

“I recommend completing all three levels we offer. Basics are taught by Madam D, then you’ll proceed with Mr. S, and if you pass that, you’ll finish with our Tomášek. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the first group.”

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Madam D, who reminds me of my elementary school teacher, didn’t sit well with me from the start.

She keeps calling on me, asking about the past, forcing me to weigh words and thoughts. She searches for flaws, compares the incomparable, pokes a wooden pointer into memories, and reopens old wounds.

Why did I come here?! I chastise myself, contemplating leaving.

“We’ll take a fifteen-minute break,” she decides and approaches me.

“Enough melancholy, don’t you think? I can see it on you,” she looks into my eyes.

“Hm,” I limit myself to a sound that doesn’t invite conversation.

“You’ll continue with Mr. S,” she smiles and offers her hand.

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Mr. S looks even worse than Madam D.

What kind of freak show do they employ here? I think, staring at his pale face with prominent blue veins. If I met him in an underpass, I’d spray him with pepper spray. Just as a greeting.

But his questions and line of thinking sharply contrast with his appearance. We talk about dreams. I  weave them into the ropes of a suspension bridge leading to a desired land. We branch out into the future, fantasizing about sweet, unknown fruits.

The suspension bridge suddenly sways; the fruit overripe. Fear grips me.

“What if?” I unintentionally say aloud.

Mr. S approaches and asks me to elaborate on the question.

“It just came to mind,” I whisper.

“Try with Tomášek,” he smirks and points to the door.

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I’m alone in the room, waiting for Tomášek. I imagine him as a mix of Madam D and Mr. S. The door bursts open, and a little boy runs in.

“Hi,” he laughs and grabs my hand.

“Hi,” I smile.

“Will you play with me?”

“Not now. I’m waiting for someone,” I stroke his blond curls.

“Who?”

“Uncle Tomášek. Is your mom around?”

“I’m Tomášek!” he announces proudly.

“Wait! I need to sort something out!” I stammer and rush out of the room.

“Okay, but don’t take too long,” he giggles.

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“Are you kidding me?!” I yell at the woman in the office.

“I don’t understand, calm down.” She looks surprised.

“Can you refund my hundred euros?” I switch to a rational tone.

“Are you dissatisfied with our services?”

“Seriously?! Tomášek is a bad joke, isn’t he?” I gesture wildly.

“Please sit down for a moment; I’ll explain,” she smiles.

“I’d love to hear this!” I snap but sit down.

“Tomášek is our best coach. He also leads other courses, but let’s set that aside. If you’d given him a  chance, he could have taught you to enjoy the present. Only children can do that,” she places a  notebook on the table.

I shake my head in disbelief.

“You want to experience unconditional love,” she reads.

“Yes, but I don’t see how this relates to...”

“Find the little girl inside you,” she smiles.

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I walk down my street, smiling. I signed up for two more courses with Tomášek. Along the way, I  noticed things I had missed before. I buried the past, forgot fear.

I’m looking forward to going home. I’ll kick out my roommate...