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Promo Sins · (11-01-2016)

First things first. Narration!

+1

Now that’s out of the way, I’m sat in a depressing situation. I’m in a bar, full of people, speed dating. Also my coffee is cold. I pat down the sticker slapped onto my olive wind breaker and slick back my hair as some of the others mingle in front of the snack table. I consider this cheating; it's getting to know someone before the allotted amount of time. I tap my fingernails across the uneven oak table trying to avoid eye contact with the undesirable women looking over. I take a sip of cold, cheap coffee.

Julie:"All right places people!" Screeches Julie, the woman who arranged this abhorrent display. "Everyone sit at a table. Men! Stay in your seat for the remainder of the evening, women you go from chair to chair." That's racist!

Julie:"You will then have 2 minutes to talk to your partner and then you will move on when I sound this bell!" Julies says in an obnoxious happiness, waving a bell like it's the damn golden ticket from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. "Ready? Date!"

Julie must have expected everyone to drop what they're doing and dash to open chairs like we're in some kind of desperate rat race, instead the men sit down at their own pace and the women join the tables they want. After a few seconds, which feels like a lifetime, someone joins my table.

Kim: "Hey, I'm Kim." Kim extends a hand over the table to shake and I accept, both of us flashing a smile. I look at the sticker on her dress, kinda envious that it's over her large breasts. Kim, typical cougar. Blonde highlights in her long hazel hair, overuse of make up on her eyes and lips. A little overweight but nothing to scoff at, she's curvy yes, but modern day curvy which now means she's fat but wears it well. Oh s*** I'm just staring at her boobs aren't I? She covers her cleavage a little with her cardigan as I look back to her face.

"I'm John, Johnny, Johnathon whichever you prefer." I stammer a little, giving a small smirk.

Kim: "I like Johnny." She makes a giggle, before taking a sip of her drink I'm not even going to try and pronounce. "So Johnny, what do you do for a living?" Ah, the job is the first place she goes to. Looking for a guy with money. Probably has a kid, definitely recently divorced.

"I'm a journalist." I'm not lying, it was/is my job. Not going to say for a wrestling site though, the typical woman finds wrestling, ermm, not fun. Also, no matter what any wrestler may tell you, not every girl swoons at the thought of an oiled up dude who punches people.

Kim: "Oooh, a writer. How creative, what do you write about?"

"I write for a man's magazine." That's not a total lie. "You know, tell men what they should wear, how to act, how to get women and what to drink." Am I playing Ben Affleck in Gone Girl? Is that what I'm doing?

Kim: "Heh, so you tell men how to act but you're going speed dating? In an olive windbreaker." Kim would be excellent at Promo Sins. I feign a laugh.

"I never said I was good at my job." She giggles as I take a sip of my coffee.

Kim: "So, what are you writing about in your magazine right now?" She puts her lips against her glass, gulping down the rainbow concoction. I try to figure how to bend the truth so it doesn't look I'm fighting Hot Topic fanatic Chris Chaos.

"I'm researching the emo and goth culture right now, seeing what makes them tick." Nice work brain. "Testing why they're so angry at the world and how going against the mainstream makes them feel more important; know what I mean?" She looks at me a little puzzled.

Kim: "And you're learning all this so you can tell them how to dress?"

". . . Yes."

DING!

The ring of a bell sounding the switching of seats to my relief. Kim leaves the table with a smile, swinging her hips as she saunters over to the next table. I take a brief moment to remember I am actually in a match soon. I lost against Makaveli, some say barely; others aren't as nice. But I should go over the tapes, see where I went wrong and how I can improve. I tap my fingers on the table and begin biting my fingernails as another girl comes over. Short, glasses, quick plain looking but honestly I'm not one to judge about being plain. She sits down with a nervous smile.

Rebecca: "Hi, I'm Rebecca." She gives a tiny wave to me.

"John, Johnny, Johnathon. Whichever you prefer." She laughs like a hyena looking for a mate.

Rebecca: "I like Johnathon." I expected that. "So, what brings you here?"

"Same reason as you I suppose." I reply with a grin. She's quite pale, looks like she doesn't go out much, which is perfect for me. She nods with a sigh.

Rebecca: "Ah, your mother made you do it." Mommy wants grandkids. I simply nod, again it's not true but I didn't say 'yes' so is it really a lie? Yes, yes it is. I'll sin myself when I get home. "So whereabouts are you from? Don't look like a California native." Hit the nail on the head Rebecca.

"Portland, Oregon. I'm just here for a job, I'm a writer." Get that information across, chicks dig writers.

Rebecca: "Portland? No way that's so cool, I love Portlandia! Is the show and real life basically the same?"

"Totally!" I hate Portlandia. I can safely say that without watching a singe episode. "But enough about me, what do you do?" She shuffles in her seat and clears her throat.

Rebecca: "I study here. Biology." She continues on about school, wouldn't have guesses she was in her early twenties. Maybe night school? Whatever, I begin to lose interest in what she says. Instead I replay my match with Makaveli in my head, looking at every detail were I went wrong while prodding the bruises on my ribs underneath my jacket. Was I not aggressive enough? Too lazy at the time when I should have shown pure energy? I can't put my finger on it, but I lost. There's no need to dwell on it... But why am I? "You know?" I snap to attention hearing Rebecca speak again.

"Absolutely." No idea what she said. She just nods slowly and thankfully the bell rings again. She gets to her feet.

Rebecca: "It was nice to meet you, Johnathon."

"Yeah, yeah you too." We share a smile and she leaves to the next table. I'm drink some of my coffee and almost wretch at the taste; I rest the cardboard cup on the table and go back to biting at my fingernails, stuck in the thought about the match and my match to come. Need to do something different. I'm so lost in my thought that I only recognise the tall, blonde single mother in front of me. Crow's feet, yellow teeth and showing more cleavage than... Ah I can't think of a metaphor.

Chloe: "Hey, I am Chloe." I smile. "With a K." Oh.

"John, Johnny, Johnathon. Whatever." That was a bit sharper than I meant it to be.

ChloeKloe?: "So are you as bored as I am?"

"Can I ask you something?" I don't even allow her to answer. "I got my ass kicked not too long ago."

Kloe: "Oh gosh did you get mugged?"

"Shut up, don't interrupt me. I'm not angry about it, I'm not holding a grudge of any kind towards the guy but I can't stop fixating over it. I got some good hits in but in the end, I went down. Why?" She looks me up and down with a dismissive smirk.

Kloe: "Probably because you have no real muscle, you look like a nerd and you'd probably piss your pants at the sight of some hood with a gun." This girl would be excellent at Promo Sins. I think over this for a second.

"Nah that doesn't sound like me." She chortles at my comment.

Kloe: "Wow, you sure have an ego."

"Well I am a writer." I say with a smirk. "Every single person who writes either for a living or a hobby, on paper or some blog or forum has an unreasonable amount of self-worth, pride and smugness in the mediocre trash they put out." She makes a slight giggle.

Kloe: "You're probably the first person I've met tonight who has been honest. It's refreshing."

"I know what you mean, usually everyone here has this sunny persona they wear; it's sickening."

Kloe: "Agreed." She raises her glass of wine in a toast. "To cynicism."

I smile and clink my coffee against her glass.

Ding.

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