“It was much worse than that. I flashed him.”
“I can’t believe I missed it! Top or bottom? And were you drunk?”
“Not drunk. Honestly, I don’t know how much he saw, but I was like Marilyn in the movie The Seven Year Itch in the scene on the subway grate. My dress flew up toward my head and it took everything I had to get it back down and cover myself until he could turn off the fan that was on the floor.”
“I wish I could have been there. Were you also wearing a white halter dress?”
“I don’t even own one.”
“What about your undies?”
“Pink lace.”
“I love those.”
“Me, too.”
“Well, maybe we should just cancel the online dating. If you showed Nick your goods, he’s going to be pursuing you like a maniac. I doubt any man can pass that up. Men stutter around your cleavage. They can’t even form coherent sentences.”
I laughed and pointed to her laptop. “Can we get on with this, please?”
“Of course, Marilyn.” She rubbed her hands together. “Okay, let’s find you your soulmate.”
“I sent you something I worked on last night. Check your email.”
“Okay.” Dee opened up her laptop and clicked a few times. “Got it. Characteristics of the perfect man?” She looked up. “Okay, maybe I shouldn’t read this since the perfect man doesn’t exist.”
I huffed. “Of course, he does.”
“No. He. Doesn’t. Now, there may be the perfect man for you, but that does not mean he’s going to be perfect. Let’s be honest here, he needs to have at least a few issues just to consider going out with you. Unless he’s a masochist, of course.”
I crossed my arms. “Did you forget that you’re my friend? Give me back that second croissant.”
Dee pulled it back out of my reach. “No. And I’m telling it like it is. You are not perfect, either. There’s no such thing as a perfect man and you need to find someone that you like so much you’re willing to put up with his flaws. Because he will have flaws. You do. I do. Everyone does.”
“I disagree. I think you’re perfect.”
“Okay, you have a really good point there.” Dee flipped her hair back proudly and smiled.
I laughed. “Are you going to open the document or not?”
She nodded. “I’m going to, but I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.”
“Just open it.”
“Okay, okay . . .” She stared at her computer as she took a sip of her coffee. “Wow.”
“What?”
She pointed to her computer. “I have to ask you—are you looking for a soulmate or a business partner? What kind of traits are these? Decisive? Fiscally responsible? Are you serious?”
“Of course, I’m serious. If he has decision-making capabilities and fiscal responsibility, that means he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Should I put smart instead? Would that make you feel better? Or college educated?”
“The man of your dreams may not have gone to college. Have you even considered that?”
“Ha! Not even a little.”
“Your soulmate could be a mechanic or a machine worker or a gardener or a—”
I held up my hand. “Stop right there! We are not on the same page.”
Dee smirked. “We are not even on the same planet. Earth to Ruth, wake up. Hang on a second.”
I heard the trash sound effect on her computer.
I pointed to her laptop. “You deleted my document, didn’t you?”
“You bet I did. I told you we were doing this my way and the first rule is you are not allowed to choose his profession or the size of his portfolio. Size doesn’t matter.”
“What are we talking about here?”
“You know what I’m talking about.” Dee sat forward in her chair. “I already opened an account in your name on this dating website and created your profile.” She turned the laptop around so I could see. “Now these are realistic qualities that you want in a man.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to see this.” I glanced at her list that she wrote for me on the website. “Honest, a sense of humor, compassionate, patient . . .” I laughed and glanced at Dee. “This is you! I should just marry you.” I pushed the laptop back in her direction.
“Laugh all you want, but you already have thirty-three messages in your inbox since I posted your profile last night. Men want you.”
“Let me see that.” I pulled the laptop back in front of me and scrolled through the pictures of some of the men who had messaged me. “Hmmm. Some of these men are handsome, I’ll give you that much, but we can get rid of this guy here. I’m not going out with a bus driver. Delete.” I deleted his message and went to the next message. “This man is a fisherman? No way. He’s going to smell when he comes home from work every single day. Delete.” I deleted his message and scrolled to the next one. “A nuclear power reactor operator? Seriously? Who willingly, of sound mind, would want to do a job like that? No brain cells is not attractive. He’s going to infect me with radiation and one of my eyeballs is going to fall out of its socket. Not attractive. Goodbye, radiation man.” I deleted his message and pushed the computer back to Dee again. “Already, I can see your way is not going to work.”
She sighed. “You’re not even giving these guys a chance and they could be amazing people.” She pointed to her screen. “And what about this guy? He’s a hunk.” She started to turn her laptop back in my direction.
I threw my hand up to stop her. “I’m not even going to look at his picture. Just tell me what does for a living.”
“He’s a plumber.”
I made the sound of a gameshow buzzer. “I’m not going out with a plumber, regardless of how much he knows about pipes.”
“Basically, I need to go through all these messages and ignore all blue-collar workers.”
“Pretty much! Look, I agree that there’s a chance that some of them may be decent people, okay? But I would like to meet someone who works in an office environment or is a business professional who understands business, at least. Then they will get what I’m trying to do with my career and support me. And I don’t mean support me financially. I mean they will be on my team and root for me as I go for my dreams. A plumber is going to come home, show me his butt crack, and ask me what’s for dinner.”
Dee laughed. “He only shows his butt crack to his clients and you are being completely ridiculous.”
I laughed. “Yes, I know I am, but I’m just trying to get my point across. I will never have a thing for blue-collar workers!”
Nick appeared in the backyard on the other side of the screen doors, looking in our direction. “Good morning.”
“Good morning!” I said with too much enthusiasm, trying to cover my gaff in case he heard me.
“Good morning,” Dee said.
Nick continued toward the other side of the roses where the fountain was going to be installed today, dropping his tool bag on the ground.
I leaned in toward Dee and whispered. “Please tell me that landscaping is not a blue-collar job.”