The Profiler.

“Not even a bootycall?”

“Not even a bootycall.”

“So you got nothin’?”

“I got nothin’,” I said, shaking my head.

“That’s a damn shame,” said Sean, as he took a sip of his Guiness. “No one to drunk-text.”

“Nope, no one to drunk-text,” I sighed. I took a sip of my Bud Light. “Well, except My Ex, of course. I drunk-text him all the time.”

Sean gave me a look.

Thalia was in Event Planner mode so she wasn’t paying any attention to this exchange. The three of us had gathered at a patio bar near my work for our usual catch-up session and also to see if it would be a good venue for our NotQuiteACougar.com One Year Anniversary Celebration. We’d decided it would. She was busy making notes in her phone on what our next steps would be to get the party together.

“Look, I’m glad Your Ex helped you out that night,” Sean muttered. “But you gotta let go of that guy.”

Truth be told, no one was really pleased to hear that since I’d posted Piece By Piece, I’d been talking to My Ex on a regular basis. When I'd mentioned it to Tina, she’d paused and then said slowly, “You know, if you marry that guy, I am going to get so freakin’ wasted at your wedding.” I’d laughed and then said, “If I marry My Ex, you know who will be the most wasted at our wedding? My Ex. Because I’m pretty sure being married to me is his idea of Hell on Earth.”

“I know, I know,” I said to Sean, as I grabbed a chip to dunk it our spinach artichoke dip. “I know it’s not good for me. But, listen, it’s a moot point now. I can’t contact him at all anymore. Something happened last night and he is really, really pissed at me. I need to give him some space. Like a lot of space. Like 6 months of space. So now I really don’t have anyone to drunk-text.”

“Listen,” Sean said. “I’ve told you again and again, if you want to drunk-text someone, drunk-text ME.”

“I know, I know,” I said again.

“Okay,” Thalia interjected. “I’ve got the preliminary list together. Tomorrow I’ll organize it and send it to you guys as a Google doc so we can all update it as we go. I’ll break it down week by week and assign each of us the tasks we need to accomplish.”

“Thank you so much,” I said, smiling hard. “I can’t believe it’s almost been a year!”

“I’ve already talked to the manager here about cross-promoting on Social Media. They’re totally in. And they want to do an interview with you and put it up on their website. It’s going to be a spectacular party, Tracey,” she said, nodding confidently.

I squealed and hugged my arms over my chest. “This is so exciting!”

Thalia took a sip of her drink. “So what’s this? You have no one to drunk-text? What’s going on with the online dating?”

“Nothing,” I said with a shrug. “As usual, no one is responding to my messages. I’m trying to keep an open mind, you know, ever since the Jonathan experience, and not judge a book by it’s cover but the guys who are reaching out to me, a lot of them are just…weird. I thought I was going to have a date tomorrow but when I offered it, along with another day, I never heard back. I think it’s because I said I was really busy at work with the additions to my role and wasn’t getting out early enough to meet this week. Which is true. But I did apologize for being so inflexible. I guess that wasn’t good enough.”

“That guy’s a dick,” Sean said dismissively.

“What sites are you on again?” Thalia asked.

“Match and OkCupid.”

“Get off Match,” she instructed. “It’s a total waste of time.”

“I don’t think it’s the sites that are the problem,” I lamented. “It’s me.”

Thalia sighed. “I really wish you’d just let me write your profile. I’ve been asking you for years.”

“I know.”

I thought about this as I reached for another chip and broke it in half, therefore ensuring I could double-dip without causing offense. Hmm. She certainly couldn’t do any worse than me.

“Okay. You can do it.”

“Really?!”

“Yep. You can even choose the pictures.”

“Good,” she said. “Because you know you and I have very different ideas of which pictures flatter you”

“I know.”

“Yay!” she said and clapped her hands. She then turned to Sean. “Why don’t you have us over for brunch at your place and we’ll work on the profile there? We can even take some new pictures.”

“That sounds great,” he said.

“Oh!” I exclaimed. “Will you make that chicken?”

Sean laughed. “Sure.”

I looked at the two of them and shook my head. What would I do without Sean and Thalia?

“Okay,” Thalia said, as she moved her attention back to her phone. “Let’s set a date for the brunch and get this ball rolling.”

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14 thoughts on “The Profiler.”

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