Chuck Wendig asked for some submissions for his blog under the prompt of “irregular creatures” and this is my entry at 900 and some odd words.
Jon was nervous.
It wasn’t because he had been out of practice so long, or because he hadn’t spoken to a person face to face in five years. It was just plain old nervous energy. He checked the mirror, checked his clothes, checked his pants–
Shit.The pants didn’t match his shirt. Why didn’t he notice that before? He had paid good money for them too and now they looked almost pea green next to the emerald shirt. He removed them in disgust and tried on another pair.
Brown… he looked at the time. Brown would have to do. Rose would be here any minute.
He had been shy about using the dating service at first. It wasn’t until his best friend, Bobinator1982 had sworn by it, that he had even considered something so extreme.
“I am telling you,” said Bobinator1982, “She was fucking hot.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Jon had said, the cold glow of the screen reflecting off his glasses. “But did anything come from it?”
“Oh hell yes!”
Bobinator1982 went on for another fifteen minutes describing his date with Hillary, in detail, from dinner to her cup size, color of panties, the hair style (above and below the belt). It was more than Jon had really asked for, but Hillary sounded amazing and if Date-2-Go was really that good, if he could even do half as well as Bobinator1982, Jon would consider himself lucky.
“This isn’t an escort service,” Jon said. “Right?”
“No. No way man. It is totally legit. I had no idea that I could even meet someone so amazing.”
So Jon signed up, installed the plug-in, the addons, the mobile app. He had paid the $200 fee up front and waited, tapping nervous fingers on the desk while the software installed. He made a profile, made an avatar, made a link to his various online profiles, complete with stats, equipment, swords–Jon had a kickass rogue in Silhouette Nights, so it only made sense to lead with his best foot forward. Jon listed his preferences: gender, race, appearence, financial stability.
He had been slaying werebeasts in the Upper Golden Valley when she contacted him.
The conversation went from awkward, to nervous laughter, to some harmless, but promising flirts and winks.
“I’m not looking for normal,” she said. “I’ve dated normal. I don’t want that anymore. I want excitement. Someone who can show me things I haven’t seen before, an irregular creature who lives a life worth living, not some schmuck with a boring career and a standard house.”
“You would like my house,” said Jon.
“Yeah.” And then he described it.
“I’ll be over at ten,” she said and disconnected.
Step 1 was over and done with before he had even given it a second thought. Maybe Bobinator1982 was right. Maybe this service was totally worth the money. They already had so much in common.
As he looked around his house, he had a pretty good feeling Rose would be impressed. He had designed it himself and to very specific and whimsical specifications. Not everyone had an indoor pool, or a game room, or balconies overlooking the ocean.
That isn’t to say that it hadn’t cost him. But money was never a problem for Jon anymore. Slaying monsters in-game was just something to kill the time. He was honestly bored.
He strolled through his courtyard that separated the gaming room from his dining area. Maybe he should start the tour with the game room. She was a gamer–obviously!–so maybe the game room made sense, or was that just too redundant?
Five years since he had spoken to a woman face to face. Well, there was the bank clerk downtown. He saw her every day practically. You didn’t get to be a man with Jon’s wealth and status without talking to your banker regularly about investments, stocks, porfolios. It took time and patience, but most importantly, he hadn’t been helped by anyone. Jon was a self-made man.
But his patience was sure being put to the test tonight as he stared up at the full moon, fighting back his nerves. It had been a long, painfully long time.
He heard the hooves outside his front yard and nearly ran to the door, forcing himself to walk. Can’t be too anxious!
Rose knocked. He opened the door and held his breath. She was a knockout.
She stood six feet tall with hair so blonde it was almost white. It rippled down her shoulders, over her pauldrons (Etherial pauldrons! So hard to get!) Her eyes were large, blue as seas and wide-set under long lashes. Her tiny elfin nose rested above pouty red lips–like a rose, he thought.
“You’re a troll!” she laughed, but not cruelly. “I never thought I’d date a troll!”
“Well you said you wanted an irregular creature.” He flashed his tusky smile at her as a golden trinket dangled from one elongated tooth. “Want me to show you around?”
“Actually,” she said, twisting a finger by her dimpled cheek, “I need some help with the Goblet of Amarrians quest. If you think you’re up for it.”
“Honey,” he said slyly, “I was doing that quest when you were level 2.”
She laughed again, perfect white teeth shining as brightly as the claymore strapped to her back. Jon whistled and a silver dragon appeared with saddles for two. There would be time for pillow talk later during the nightly server maintenance. There would be time to meet in real life when the game got boring… if the game ever got boring.
For now, they were off on the best date of Jon’s life.
(c) Marlan Smith 2011