7/29/13

Quirks and All
By Sherri Collins


That’s him. Holy crap on toast, that’s him. He’s so… so… well, perfect. Perfect is the apt word here, isn’t it? Just look at all those descriptors that romance writers have the market on. Chiseled chin? Check! Piercing eyes? Yep. Sculpted arms? Good God, yes.

I’m doomed.

Okay, no, it’s fine. I’ll just go over there and introduce myself and not say something stupid. Grace wouldn’t have set me up with him if she didn’t think I could handle it. I can totally handle it. I’m not such a bad catch myself, right? I can handle it. I can handle it. Oh my God, he’s so pretty.

One foot in front of the other, good, good. Uh-oh, he’s looking at me. Piercing eyes! Piercing eyes!

“Hi,” I say. “You must be Chris.”

Strong handshake, charming smile, crinkling of the eyes. Oh, yeah, he’s still perfect. “Heather, I presume,” he says in a deep timbre. The kind of voice that would make a telemarketer forget her pitch. “Please have a seat. Can I get you a drink?” He’s already motioning to the bartender.

“A martini, please. Extra olives.” Wow, that really rolled off my tongue there, so the practice paid off. Now, I wonder what a martini tastes like…

“I have to admit that I was skeptical about a blind date,” he says. “But I’m glad I gave into Grace’s persistence. You’re even lovelier than she described.”

Okay, who is feeding this guy his lines? He cannot be this charming. Surely he has an earpiece on, and a long-beaked fellow is behind a curtain somewhere.

“That’s sweet,” I say and try for the high-wattage smile to match his. “I’m pleasantly surprised myself.”

He chuckles, low and deep. “So, tell me about yourself. I’m afraid I didn’t get many details from Grace.”

When I’m eating M&Ms, I have to eat all of the yellow ones first!
My left ear is bigger than my right!
When I was little, I wanted to be a rap singer when I grew up. I still do!

“Oh, there’s not much to tell,” I say. “I work with Grace at Miller and Associates. I’m a legal assistant there.”

“Sounds interesting. You like it?”

“I guess.”

He leans slightly toward me. “What do you do in your spare time?”

I like to watch rugby games at two a.m. and I don’t even know the rules!
I go to the airport two hours before I’m supposed to pick someone up, just so I can watch all of the people reuniting!
I insist on watching horror movies and then bury my face in a pillow the whole time!

“Oh, the usual, I suppose. I like shopping and cooking and taking long walks.” Oh, no. Did I just say that I like to take long walks? Am I writing a cheesy personal ad? Next I’ll be saying that I like getting caught in the rain!

Uh-oh. He just glanced away. He tried to cover it, but he definitely glanced away. Is he getting bored already? Maybe if I smile again….there….okay…oh, shoot. His smile back doesn’t look quite so sincere. That’s not good. I’m going to have to---no! He did it again. Holy crap on toast, I’m losing him already.

“I race remote control boats in the park!” I say before I realize it. “I put peanut butter and jelly on a big spoon and just eat it like that! I’ve seen Dumb and Dumber forty-six times! No, forty-seven! I watched it last night.”

His perfect eyebrows lift in surprise. Oh, God, please kill me now. Or maybe God has nothing to do with it, since a demon has obviously possessed my body and made me sputter all those things. This is the most humiliating moment of my life. Goodbye, Perfect Man. Where’s my purse? I should offer to pay for that God-awful martini, at least.

“Okay,” he says, and then he slowly smiles. It’s not the high-watt smile from before.

It’s…warmer.

“That’s an ingenious way to have a PB and J,” he nods. “I’ll have to try it. Dumb and Dumber is my favorite movie. I’ve seen it at least that many times myself. And what was the other one…remote control boats? That’s so cool. Are you in competitions?”

I lean back. “Yeah, sometimes. I even have a few trophies. But mostly it’s just me and a bunch of nine-year-olds out at the Duck Pond.”

He tilts his head back and laughs. For the first time, I see a small scar on his chin. So…it’s chiseled but flawed.

Just how I like it.


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Sherri Collins, who lives and works in the foothills of Tennessee, has a list of quirks a mile long. Her work can be found in Eric's Hysterics and The Big Jewel, among others.

5/12/10

Different From All Others
By Sherri Collins


She thought Roberto was so exotic, so intriguing with the accent that trickled off his tongue, the heavy-lidded eyes, and the confident swagger. She listened to the sound of his stories; she watched the graceful arc of his gestures. When he left, she sobbed for a loss that could never be filled.

To mend her heart, her friend fixed her up with a man named Roberto. When he arrived, she gaped at his lean, lithe body. His lips touched her cheek, her hands. "Muy bonita," he whispered, and her breath caught. Such a man, different from all others. When he bid her a permanent farewell, she wailed hopelessly.

While mailing a letter, she bumped into a man and dropped the envelope. He retrieved it and caught her hand. "I am Roberto," he said, and she smiled. At the supermarket, Roberto bagged her groceries. At the pharmacy, Roberto filled her prescription. As he handed her the bags, he touched the small of her back lightly and whispered in her ear, "mi querida." When she returned to both places the next day, she asked for Roberto only to hear that he no longer worked there.

Slumping onto a park bench, she wiped at her wet eyes. "Are you alright, miss?" came a voice, not lyrical, but strangely rich with comfort. "Oh, leave me alone, Roberto!" she sobbed. No more, she thought. No more. The man sat down next to her and slipped a tissue into her hand.

"I'm John," he said.


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Bio: Sherri Collins lives in the foothills of Tennessee with her love. Her work can be found in Bartleby Snopes, Writers' Bloc, and The Oddville Press, among others.