A Nobody: Part VI

This redhead I’ve just met urges me to “rethink” my recently deactivated FaceSpace account.  She rattles her empty coffee cup and walks towards the recycling cans.  “I read somewhere that 75% of married couples meet through FaceSpace now,” she says.  “All thanks to that new compatibility exam.  Why play guessing games when it comes to the rest of your life?”
 Her CrackBerry rings with a new message and, as if it were a reflex, her thumbs jump to the corresponding buttons. As she walks by, headed, I’m sure, for the doors, I reach out and take her hand and ask, “What if I told you I did take that exam?” She stops.  Looks up from her phone. “What if I told you I actually fell in love with the woman they matched me with?  After a parade of failed relationships, and everything I’ve been saying - me - in love with someone named xoCharlotteJ25.
Red has her eyes locked on mine for the first time all evening.  During our entire conversation she had been too stimulated, too distracted. Always checking her phone.  Her inbox.  Catching glimpses of my face only in between page loads. But now I’m the center her attention.  Even as a blue light flickers in her ear- begging answer me answer me with every blink of an incoming call- her autumn eyes never stray. “Go on,” she whispers.
I finish my coffee- a large, Non-Fat Half-Skinny 1% Soy Extra Hot Split Quad Shot Latte with Whip.  The Day’s special.  
“Her picture was stunningly beautiful,” I recall.  “Midnight black hair draped over her these delicate, smooth shoulders.  She was posing in pajamas for what looked like a web cam, but even so, I could tell she was the kind of natural beauty who didn’t need much maintenance.  And when I scanned her profile, imagine how amazed I was to find that we appreciated all the same music.  The same books and hobbies, too. “FaceSpace was right, I’m thinking.  She’s perfect.
“Before I know it the two of us are messaging each other back and forth like we’d known each other for years and within weeks, I feel it, you know- really feel it.  Love.
“That’s when I decide I have to see her.  In person, to profess my love like Romeo.  Except this Juliet lives on the opposite side of the country.
“So one weekend I print out a plane ticket without mentioning anything, and a few hours later I’m standing on xoCharlotteJ25’s doorstep.  Flowers in hand.  Combing my fingers through my hair like a nervous teenager before prom. “Knock, knock,” I say, mimicking with my fist.
“Counting the seconds for her to answer the door, I’m starting to worry that I might’ve overlooked the chance of her simply not being home. But then I hear footsteps, clomping down the stairs.” The moment rushes back and I cringe, thinking of me, that day and-
"–And? ” blurts the redheaded, listening intently.  “Then what?”
“Then I met my soul mate,” I tell her.  “A 300-lb Spanish guy with a mustache.”
Red doesn’t offer much in terms of comfort.  She doesn’t need to.  Instead, she stuffs her CrackBerry into her purse, removes the FoolTooth widget from her ear and stuffs that in her purse, too.  “Let’s get out of here,” she smiles.