Page 5 of Love's a Script
“I’m here,” he said, “because we received a large response from our listeners following your appearance and?—”
“Glad I could help.”
Ruben was oddly delighted by the sarcasm. “Yes, well, on top of our weeknight broadcasts, we release a feature, a sort of radio documentary, every quarter, and we’ve decided our next one will be on modern dating.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“One research component would include me going through the matchmaking process with you.”
She was shaking her head before he finished his sentence.
“Hold on,” he said. “It won’t technically be a promotion, but Hearts Collide and your services will be highlighted. And if you want, we could do another interview.”
“So I can get hung up on again? I’ll pass,” she said.
“That was out of my control. It’s live radio, and I went over.”
“You also went off topic.”
“I’d say I went on reasonable, related tangents.”
“I didn’t go on air for reasonable, related tangents.”
He considered telling her she’d done a great job nonetheless, and that if it hadn’t been for the time constraint on their interview, he’d have stayed volleying with her for much longer. “I’m sorry,” he said instead. “I was concerned with the larger context we were having the conversation in. It wasn’t personal.”
“All right, but I still don’t think you’re the right fit for our agency.”
“Why not?”
There was a pause. “We have an in-depth admission process,” she said.
“That’s fine. I’ll do whatever is required of me.”
“We’re also an expensive service, as you know.”
He smiled. “The invoice will be paid in full.”
“None of my clients signed up to be part of a documentary.”
“My reporting will be on my experience, not on any specific person, and I’d disclose my work and assignment to each match.”
After a bout of silence and some hope on his end, Mary crossed her arms and told him no. “I’m here to help people who’re actually looking for love,” she said. “I can’t in good conscience bring on someone who doesn’t believe in this method.”
Any persuasive argument Ruben might’ve offered would’ve required him to lie about his perspective on matchmaking. “I understand,” he said and thanked her for her time. If he’d learned anything from his years in radio, it was to be adaptable. Things changed on a dime. News broke, equipment failed, and interviews fell through. An aggrieved matchmaker would not derail progress.
There was a certain kind of character native to sitcoms that Mary always admired. They were the ones who weren’t afraid to say what needed to be said in a deadpan aside, to call out the hypocrisy, the irony, or the absurdity of characters and situations.
Mary had sent Ruben packing without placation or apology, and she swore it was worthy of the cheers from a studio audience. She felt boundless, and at the first opportunity, she recounted the interaction to another matchmaker.
“You’ll never believe who I had a meeting with first thing this morning,” Mary said to Francine as they fell into step with each other on the way to the break room.
“Who?” Francine asked, her brows raised as high as the Reloxin in her forehead would permit.
“That radio show host who interviewed me on Monday. He wanted to join the agency for a documentary.”
“What did you tell him?”
“No. Obviously.” Mary laughed, expecting her colleague to join in.
