The Match Maker at Work

Zen

The Bartender
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
Genres
Fantasy, Modern, Magical, Romance, Action, Urban Fantasy
Priscilla clutched tightly to the form she held in her hands, sweating profusely in her seat. She didn't notice that the paper was being scrunched up from her nervousness, so concerned was she with looking around for her date. The matchmaker, Layne, didn't give her a picture of her date, but instead gave her a piece of paper with the man's name, where to meet him and some general information about who he was. And the place to meet him was in a coffee shop inside a mall. It was a good choice in case the man turned out to be some sort of serial killer. There was less chance of that happening in a group of people.

God what was she thinking? Was she really that desperate that she would turn to a Matchmaker to find her a lover? It wasn't as bad as going to eHarmony but still... She paid money for it. But she really didn't have time to find someone so why not let someone else do it for her? She sighed heavily as the thought ran through her head. Who was she kidding? You can always make time but the truth was, the woman was far too scared to go out on her own and find a man. Most of her friends and co-workers were already married or involved in very serious relationships. And her? Well, still the workaholic as always.

She debated on buying herself a cup of coffee as she waited. Maybe even a piece of pound cake. But what if her date walked in and though her a pig for buying food before him? Hanging her head, she decided to wait it out.
 
It had been a busy day for Sven, with more work orders than usual and his date looming overhead. As it was he had hardly made enough time to go home and shower before heading to the coffee shop. He was a simple man, a little rough around the edges maybe but decent looking. He had short brown hair that was impossible to do anything with and a set of deep brown eyes- the sort of eyes that never seemed to express anything, and a face that looked about as sophisticated as caste iron he had spent all day welding.

Sven was speeding down the highway with his windows all the way down, singing along to his sound system as he often did. He liked rough, hard music with imperfections and low production values. “Heeey Tito... where you going... with that axe in your hand?” he sang.

Sven's freeway exit came up and he turned to speed down the ramp in his old gray sedan. The car wasn't much, but he installed a subwoofer in the trunk to give his music some more oomph. “I'm gonna kill my baby... 'cuz I caught her screwin' round... with some other man.... oh yeah,” he continued. He saw the mall ahead and made his way into the parking lot. He found a good space, got out and started walking to the entrance. He looked down at his calloused hands to make sure he had all the grease off of them. Some women didn't seem to think highly of workers, but college had always been beyond his reach.

Once he was inside the mall, Sven found the coffee shop and walked in. He was wearing what he considered his “nice clothes,” which were a pair of faded black jeans and an Armani Exchange T-shirt his mother had given him. He looked around for a moment, seeing a young woman clutching a pierce of paper rather tightly as she sat at one of the tables. He wasn't sure if that was his date, so he forced a smile and waved.
 
Brown eyes kept looking up at the door whenever someone walked in. Of course no one could mistake the look of fear the woman had. What was this person going to look like? How were they gonna get along? I mean... It was going to be awkward for the first few minutes wasn't it? God her thoughts were moving at the speed of light.

A man waved at her, flashing her a smile. Unsure Priscilla waved at the man too, her eyes roaming over the new person's face. His eyes were brown like hers, but that wasn't odd. Many people had brown eyes. His hair was tousled, maybe deliberately or maybe not. Priscilla hair was black and thick; it was always a struggle to keep it in check. Right now her hair was braided down her back, stopping at the middle of her back.

She gave the man a nervous smile and waved the paper around a bit.

"You uh... Wouldn't happen to be Sven would you?"
 
Sven's eyebrows rose a little when the woman smiled back. She was pretty, in his opinion, so he was glad it was her that he was supposed to meet. One could never tell with dating services and he'd had a few bad experiences. He nodded at her and then glanced over at the counter. "Would you uh, like something?" he asked. He was a little tired from working and needed something to drink. A beer would have been his first choice, but bars tended to send women the wrong impression about him.

There was a slightly hopeful look in Sven's eyes. The glower that he usually held seemed to lift a bit with his relief. Now that he had seen the woman he was meeting, he just had to hold her interest. Talking was never something Sven had particularly liked doing. He kept to himself unless he had a joke or a story- or somebody wanted to know something. He wasn't shy by any means, but he had trouble starting conversations.

Rather than start talking, he stood by the counter. He was a contrast to the other people in the coffee shop, who were mostly the Starbucks crowd that spent ten dollars a day on coffee and a bagel. Sven looked more like he belonged on a road crew somewhere. His shoulders were broader than most, and you could tell by the way he held himself that he was some sort of laborer.
 
Her eyes glanced over to the counter where the barista was making drinks for some of the other customers in the shop. The woman wasn't that busy, only a few customers really. And the drinks would provide some sort of distraction before conversation would actually start. Thank god Layne provided them with a questionaire. That way there wouldn't be awkward silences in between them.

"Sure I'll have a drink. I'll have whatever you're having," she said with a brief smile.

Remembering the questionaire, Priscilla smoothed the paper she had in her hand over the table top. Not only did it have some of her date's information, but it had the questions for an ice breaker. She herself wasn't much of a talker, if anything she was silent most of the time. Studying tends to do that to people, and it left dark circles under her eyes. But her date seemed like the outdoors men kind of guy. His broad shoulders told her so and the almost stoic expression. Not that it was a bad thing, the stoicness. Some women found that sort of look fascinating. But for Priscilla it made it difficult to read one's inner most thoughts.

Through experience, she found that she was easy to read. Stressed. Depressed. Repressed. All of essed's...

Yes life wasn't all that exciting and it showed. The weariness was there from the way she held herself, to her eyes, and it showed through in her apartment.