Ooh. Scope him out for me? I could definitely use a little extra work this month.
Will do.
I stand up as I put my phone away, calling out Jude’s name to get his attention since I have the advantage of knowing what he looks like. He’s got artfully styled reddish-brown hair and an equally well-groomed beard. His eyes are green and he’s almost definitely picked out his form-fitting T-shirt to highlight both them and his biceps, obviously a perk of his job as a personal trainer. If this was twenty years ago, and this guy was just trying to pick up girls in a bar … he definitely wouldn’t need my help.
As it is, it won’t even be a stretch to recommend Aisha’s photography services to him. Considering what he’s got to work with, and Aisha’s magic mix of the right lighting, the right poses, and her secret-sauce filter … I’m pretty sure she could make him look like Jude Law if she wanted to.
“Hello. Miles, is it?” he says, as he walks over toward my outstretched hand.
Yeah, the accent was the right choice. Sure, it might be a little hard to figure out exactly what he’s saying, but it’s probably just hard to hear over the sound of all the dropping panties.
“Yes. Hi, Jude. A pleasure to meet you. Please have a seat.” We shake hands, and he gets settled down at the table across from me. “Can I get you anything? A cup of coffee?”
“Oh, no, thank you,” he says. “I’m actually off of caffeine these days.” Noted. He thinks for a second. “But do you think they’d be able to get me a cup of hot water with some lemon in it?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged. I’ll be right back.” I wait in line and give my drink order to Evelynn’s replacement barista, who doesn’t comment on the fact that I’ve been sitting here for hours and have now ordered something she has to give me for free. I leave a dollar in her tip jar for good karma.
“Ta,” Jude says when I place the mug in front of him, and then laughs. “Sorry, this is a little awkward, isn’t it? Meeting someone who’s supposed to be impersonating me.”
I put up my hands. “Don’t think of it like that. Just think of it like a coach. Or a copy editor. I’m helping you come across as the best version of yourself on paper. Or, you know, the screen.”
Jude nods. “Yeah, I’ve gathered I need some help in that department. The problem is, I absolutely never know what to write back, and then I forget, and before I know it I’ve accidentally ‘ghosted.’ Or something. That’s what a couple of the girls called it.”
I nod. “Writing is a skill set. You’re basically just hiring a consultant to help you with getting your foot in the door. No different than if you hired, say, someone to help you with your résumé.”
“Right, right.” Jude nods as he takes a sip from his mug. “So, how does this work exactly? Do I get to pick my matches?”
“Well,” I begin, settling into my spiel. “We essentially offer packages. So with your basic package, you can pick your matches and our goal is to get you to an initial in-person date. Now, you can always add à la carte services like, for example, getting one of our matchmaking consultants …” (Georgie, also known as Leanne’s assistant/graphic designer/social media manager) “… to help you select your possible matches. Another add-on we do is a photography package. Our photo consultant—who is absolutely fantastic by the way—can help with picking and enhancing your profile pictures,” I say, planting the seeds for throwing some work Aisha’s way. “We even have conversational coaches who can help with in-person dates.” That would be Giles, Leanne’s lawyer who—for reasons unbeknownst to us—owes Leanne some sort of epic favor.
“I see,” Jude says.
“Now, we do offer other packages. Our silver package will get you up to a third date and includes three photo enhancements built in, along with a phone consultation with our conversational coach. Or our gold package, which is the whole shebang: We will work with you up to and including a tenth date. We’ll set up a photo shoot and provide you with up to ten retouched and varying photo options for your profile. Our conversational consultant will be available to you on demand and can even surreptitiously attend a date to help you with your speaking skills via a headset.” Which we can only offer because no one ever picks the gold package. We certainly don’t own the equipment and I’m pretty sure Giles has no idea that’s even an option.
“Wow,” Jude says, nervously squeezing out the lemon in his drink. “Sounds very James Bond.”
I can sense he’s overwhelmed; time for me to rein it in with the perfect combination of self-confidence and ego boost. “We’ve had a lot of success with all of our packages. But in your case, I’d recommend the basic package. I don’t think you’re going to be needing too much help from us.”
“Really?” he says, looking up at me hopefully.
“Absolutely,” I say, not even really lying. From the corner of my eye, I can see the barista looking at him wistfully. I’m either gonna have this guy married off by the end of the year or surrounded by a harem—all depending on where he currently stands on the spectrum of relationship-seeking adult male. Though, usually, if they’re coming to us, they tend to be after something a little more serious. “And, if you happen to need any add-ons, we can take it from there.” I’ll bring up Aisha’s wunderskills at our next meeting.
Jude nods. “Okay.”
“For today, I’m going to show you a couple of places in your profiles that you can spruce up. Just so you can see how we operate and know that we’re not changing anything about who you are.”
“Sounds good,” Jude says.
“Great.” I navigate over to his Chemistrie profile. “Okay, like here. Under ‘Likes,’ it says: ‘A pint.’ Which is good, honest. But what do you like about drinking?”
Jude stares at me as if I might have three heads. “Er, mostly getting drunk, mate.”
I smile. “Of course. But aside from that … is there a particular drink that you like? A particular bar?”
“Oh,” he says. “Well, actually, I’m on this weird little quest. It’s stupid, really.” He takes another sip of his water, holding on to his mug like a security blanket, as if revealing his nerdy, though I’m sure absolutely charming, quest is just oh-so-slightly embarrassing. This guy. He is 100 percent the lead in a rom-com.
“No, no. Please tell me. Quests are good. Quests show character,” I egg him on.
“Well … I’m trying to find a gluten-free, low-calorie craft beer that tastes like the regular kind. I’ve been going all over the city, trying everything they have on tap.” Yup, what did I say? “Not a ton of luck so far. But Brooklyn seems promising.” It would.
“This is good,” I say. “We can work with this.”
“Really?” he asks.
“Definitely. And, I mean, wouldn’t you want a companion to go on this self-designated pub crawl with?”
“That’d be bloody fantastic,” he says with a chuckle.
“Well, that’s why I’m here. So, let’s do this. Do you mind logging in to your account?” I turn the laptop to face Jude and let him put in his password. Then I bring it over so he can see as I type.