The Set-Up
Combine well-intentioned friends and family with my admitted lack of time to devote to finding potential boyfriends and what do we have? The set-up, of course. Or in my case, multiple set-ups. When the whole set-up saga first began, I was frankly repulsed by the idea. Where was the romance? The intrigue? The sheer spontaneity of it all? While I realize that I shouldn't pretend my life is some kind of Harlequin paperback novel, I couldn't help but be convinced that that amazing "Oh my gosh, I really like this guy" feeling just couldn't occur in the kind of manipulated circumstance a set-up seemed to be. But then again, when there isn't even anyone to cabin-fever over, what's a girl to do? By the way, Grandpa Calculator and I parted ways after the case settled, the copy guy turned out to be married and even the Arrowhead water delivery boy's route got changed (such a shame--those arms were definitely yummy eye candy).
So all that left me pondering the pros and cons of letting myself get set up with some guy I've never met. Pros? "Honey, really you can't go wrong, meeting a guy through friends is totally the best way to go," asserts Doris. And she has a point, to a certain extent it seems as if the work is done for me. Who was I to balk when there's a perfectly nice guy offered up on a silver platter, just waiting to take me to dinner? "And if you want a quick getaway, just say you'd rather go get coffee," suggests Ale, "that way, you can be in and out in 15 minutes if it's too boring or he turns out to be a weirdo." And remember all those deal-breakers I usually have to worry about? On a set-up, it seems I don't have to worry about any of them anymore because my deal-breaker "brokers" have taken care of it all for me. Enter the Sweet and Savvy Set-Up Fairies, two mutual friends of Doris and I who are shy enough to need pseudonyms but wise enough for me to trust implicitly. So when Sweet and Savvy decided that Yet Another Lawyer and I would make a perfect match, I gamely declared, why not?
Shortly thereafter, I realized there were definitely unforeseen cons and shall we say broker fees to this whole set-up business that I hadn't anticipated. But initially, Yet Another Lawyer and I had a perfectly pleasant first date. Sure there weren't any fireworks but being a proponent of giving chemistry a second (and maybe third) chance, we went out again. And again it was fine but this time I got the distinct impression that perhaps his feelings for me went a bit beyond fine. Uh-oh. Ok, one more chance for my feelings to catch up with his...but alas, the third date was just as fine as the two before. When Doris and I had brunch with Sweet and Savvy the day after my third date with Yet Another Lawyer, of course the set-up was a topic of conversation. In fact, I felt like I was being deposed a little bit. I didn't want to say anything unkind but the fact of the matter was I just didn't have that "Oh my gosh, I really like this guy" feeling. As I looked into Sweet and Savvy's inquisitive faces, I knew they were hoping for more. I'm sure they wanted to hear that Yet Another Lawyer and I had hit it off but I just couldn't give them that hoped for happy ending. And there it was--the set-up cost I hadn't seen coming. I hadn't foreseen feeling the need to apologize. I also hadn't expected to have to have a "let's just be friends" mini break-up conversation with a guy I'd just gone out on a few dates with. Had I not met Yet Another Lawyer through a set-up, the dates probably would have just fizzled out and been forgotten without such a conversation having to occur. But when a set-up doesn't work out, obligations abound, especially the obligation to explain. Sure the deal-breakers had been taken care of in the beginning, but at the end of the day, I had to pay the piper. Maybe I'd been right all along, I mused. Maybe I just wasn't capable of getting that "Oh my gosh, I really like this guy" feeling in a set-up's pressure-cooker environment. I vowed to steer clear of set-ups from then on. With regard to not having time to find my own boyfriends, I resolved to make the time, and if that meant reducing my hours at work, so be it.
Unbeknownst to me, my parents had decided to take matters into their own hands. I'd always considered my mom and dad refreshingly relaxed compared to other immigrant parents, so I was flabbergasted when I found out their matchmaking efforts of the last few weeks were alarmingly similar to a scene right out of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Color me even more confused when for the first twenty-eight years of my life, all they ever wanted was for me to be a "modern career woman" and the next thing I know they're trying to marry me off to a "good Bengali boy" sight unseen! My mother had been begging me to let her set me up and after numerous phone calls I finally caved, "Fine," I acquiesced, "you can give my number to ONE person." And so she did. Little did I know that she then proceeded to call him a bunch of times, telling him to call me. Meanwhile, my dad kept sending me emails going on about how great this guy seems over the phone and the whole time I'm trying to figure out when my oh-so-assimilated parents went over the deep end.
"He doesn't stand a chance," proclaimed Ale. "Honey, please give him a chance," pleaded Doris. Soon, Chance was the subject of countless discussions amongst each and every one of my incredibly sympathetic girlfriends. "I bet Chance is a totally normal guy," wagered Doris. "The thing is," countered Ale, "even if he is a totally normal guy, her parents have driven her so crazy, they're actually hurting Chance's chances." "Seriously, I love your mom like my own but calling seven times a day is not okay!" interjected Erika. "I would be livid," Sweet declared. "What do they think they're doing?" cried Val. "You don't have to go out with him if you don't want to," consoled Claudia. Honestly, the whole situation made me feel like I was in the Twilight Zone and I didn't know what to do or think. I couldn't disappoint my mom and just flake but at the same time I couldn't help but think that Chance was a weirdo for communicating with my parents before even talking to me. And the fact that he was perfect on paper was ironically a turn-off. I didn't care that he had an MBA from Harvard; after all, a certain far-from-perfect someone had gone to the same school and look how well that had turned out. Besides, combine my recent set-up experience and my frustration with my parents and I agreed with Ale—Chance didn't stand a chance. "Unless," the girls stated in unison, "he's super-hot, super-fun and super-fabulous." Yeah, right. What were the chances of that?
When we talked on the phone, Chance seemed normal enough and was in total agreement about how odd the whole situation was. We decided to circumvent my parents having us both over to dinner to meet for the first time (can you imagine?!) and just get together in a couple of weeks when Chance would be in town. While I suggested getting coffee at first, the idea evolved to lunch in my neighborhood (Old Town Pasadena) and I thought how bad could a little lunch be? If it was awful, I could always just walk home. I have to admit, my expectations couldn't have been any lower. When I walked downstairs to see him for the first time ever, I didn't feel any nervous first-date butterflies, more like bored resignation. I fully expected some nerdy guy to be waiting at the gate and as I walked toward him his back was to me but it seemed like he was wearing glasses. Oh, great, some dork in glasses, I thought. And then he turned around. And took off his sunglasses. Holy crap. He was hot. "Super-hot?" the girls would ask later—yes, yes, super-hot. "No frickin' way," Oly whispered when I called her later that night to discuss the day's events. "Way, Oly, WAY," I reiterated.
But looks weren't everything, how shallow of me to even be concerned with such a superficial trait. "Oh, please," dismissed Mariana, "you're not blind!" "Thank God you had enough pride to look great too," Ale said gratefully. "I love that Ella Moss dress on you by the way," Val complimented. "Get to the rest of the date!" demanded Tania, "I can't stand the suspense!" It was the most ideal first date I could ever have imagined. There I am, starring in my very own romance with my very own tall, dark, handsome stranger. Lunch flew by as we talked and joked and laughed. We even laughed about the fact that I thought he'd be a weirdo because he talked to my parents a bunch before even talking to me. "What was I supposed to do?" he asked, "Ignore all their calls?" "I had no idea they were calling you that much!" I exclaimed, inwardly trying to decide whether to strangle or hug my mother. And as we're talking and joking and laughing I realized we shared the same sense of humor, had insanely odd things in common and were already finishing each other's sentences. After lunch, we decided to see a movie but found it didn't start for another hour. "Wait, did he pay for lunch?" interrogated Sheila. Yes, yes, he wouldn't hear of me chipping in. "Phew!" she sighed in relief. Anyway, we were so early to the movie that we were the only two people in the theatre. Conversation flowed from one topic to the next and the hour had passed before I even knew it. During the movie, we whispered comments to each other throughout and shared the same opinion when it was over. By the way, the movie was Inside Man and as we were walking out I commented to Chance that it seemed like two hours of foreplay with no big finish. "Exactly," he agreed. Hmm, I do declare there may have been other reasons why it felt like two hours of foreplay besides the movie's plot...
"Did I tell you? What did I tell you?" crowed Doris gleefully. "You told me, you told me," I conceded. "So how did it end? Did he try to kiss you?" Claudia eagerly inquired. "He better not have. It's their first date and their parents set them up," admonished Doris. "She's right, he didn't," I agreed, "but you guys, I think he's a player." "Just tell us exactly what happened," Oly and Tania instructed. By the time we walked out of the movie, it had gotten dark and a little chilly, so he offered me his blazer to wear to keep warm and I declined at first but then ended up taking him up on his offer. Oh, I forgot to mention he was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a blazer. I wasn't crazy about the look but I appreciated being able to wear the jacket later on. "Get back to the end!" demanded Mariana. As we walked back to my apartment complex, we said our goodbyes at his car. And while he was helping me take his jacket off, we also told each other it had been so much fun hanging out. "Super-fun, right?" Claudia teased. "Right," I laughed, "super-fun, until..." "Until what?" asked Tania. Until HE asked ME to call him. Red flippin' flag. "Uh-oh. That's not a good sign, Shaiz," determined Oly. Ever since college, my friends and I have all been extremely wary of any time a guy asks the girl to call him. It just makes her have to do the all the leg work and seems to be a classic player move.
"How can that be? What guy talks to a girl's parents that much only to play her?" Doris challenged. I didn't know but I still didn't like having to be the one to call first. Regardless, it was an eventful work week so I resolved to call after the week was over and tried not to think about it too much (yeah, right). The following Saturday, I called and left a short and I hoped sweet message. The day ends. No return call. The next day ends. No return call. And the next day ends in exactly the same fashion--no return call. "He's dead to us," decreed Claudia. "I just don't get it," questioned a bewildered Doris, "who acts like that on a set-up?" And it was then that I discovered yet another unforeseen con to being set-up: higher expectations of the other party that aren't necessarily warranted. "It's true," nodded Oly empathetically, who understands all too well since she's been dating a guy she met on a set-up who for months now has been all conflicted due to what we think are unresolved issues with an ex-girlfriend. "This stuff's just not supposed to happen on a set-up!" fumed Doris. But it does, I realized. I think I've finally got it, I thought. I think the point is that the chance for romance can be anywhere and a set-up is no more or less desirable than finding a guy on my own. But here's the thing: a set-up's no more or less guaranteed either. It's always a gamble, no matter what. And that Tuesday afternoon, three days after my phone call, I was coming to grips with the fact that maybe I'd gambled on Chance and lost.
"I think Chance still has a chance," asserted Ale, "I've never seen you fall so hard so fast and I just can't imagine it was all one-sided. He'll call." Mariana agreed, who said I should be careful not to play games and wasn't a fan of me waiting the week to call in the first place. "Besides, maybe Chance asked you to call initially not because he's a player but because he wanted to make sure you weren't in it out of some sense of obligation to your parents." And they were right, because Tuesday night, Chance called and apologized for not getting back to me sooner. We talked for an hour and made plans to get together, which is no easy feat since he's up in the Bay Area and I'm down here in L.A. I don't know how or if we're going to work but what can I say? For now, I'm just enjoying my "Oh my gosh, I really like this guy" feeling.
~~~ Shaiza
