A Toast

"Start from the driveway," Sue smirked, taking my arm and leading me to the backyard bar, around the firepit. I took a seat across from Brian and Chris. Bob was on the other side of Sue. I handed my salad to Chris and my steak to Brian to barbeque.

Since my foray into online dating, I have experienced nothing beyond mediocrity and a collection of absurd tales.

"I can't believe I'm paying for this!" I said to my gathered friends. There were five of us. We were always an odd number. That was my fault. "It feels so artificial. And now that we're in a pandemic, it's even less likely I'll meet someone organically," I whined.

The steaks sizzled. Brian kept his tongs in hand as he took his seat beside Chris.

"Can't be that bad," Chris insisted, handing me a glass of sangria.

"You can't make this stuff up," I confessed, rolling my eyes. "I saw his belly before I saw him. He didn't even bother to change clothes; he was actually filthy! But that's not even the best part." I took a cleansing breath before I admitted, "When he pulled his mask down, he was literally missing a front tooth!"

No?!" Sue nearly spat out her wine. Bob turned child-like as his head bobbed in thinly veiled hysterics.

Brain and Chris said simultaneously, "Really?"

"I swear," I said shaking my head in remembered awe. "Meanwhile, I ordered a large coffee and had to admonish myself to be polite for just one hour."

"I suppose you could have left and been justfified," Chris said directly.

Children squealed with delight as they biked past our small gathering.

"I was trying to be open-minded and not elitist. Remember the chemist?"

"Oh yeah. That was hilarious. What was that again?" Brian asked.

"He asked me if I had a favourite element I reminded him with raised eyebrows. 'I'm a big fan of Oxygen,' I answered."

Bob snorted. He leaned back against the wicker chair and enjoyed his chuckle.

Sue and Chris were soul sisters and have been a shoulder to cry on ever since my husband left our family a decade earlier. Their husbands like older brothers who have done a dozen small jobs for me without question or complaint.

"Go on, please," Sue begged. "I can tell there's more."

I sighed. "So...kids? I prompted him. To which he honestly answered, 'None that I know of.'" I shook my head in disbelief.

Chris' second husband Brian burst out in laughter. His sangria nearly spilled over the edge of the rim. "I can't," he said.

"Then what?" Chris asked.

"He told me all about his dysfunctional family. His mom married three times so he has 14 siblings in total. Hasn't seen his father in decades. You know, the usual. Then he started confessing."

"Oh, oh," they all said in unison.

"He blurted, 'So, I have a record. Spent some time in jail. It was just an ounce or two back in the day,' he admitted with casual indifference."

"Travel must be difficult then," Chris assumed.

She was right. He went on to tell me that he snuck across the Canada/U.S.A. border more than once.

"I wrapped my hands around the paper cup and glanced up at the wall clock. I took a big swig. He didn't ask me any quality questions. He rambled on about his conspiracy theories with the Coronavirus vaccine until I finished my coffee. After he told me he really didn't have the time to date, I wished him all the best."

"How is is that you were matched?" Bob querried.

"Distance alone. It seems and I quote, 'There are no matches that fit your criteria in your selected area'. If they exist at all," I quickly qualified.

Chris invited us to the patio table to dine. She thoroughly enjoyed hostessing and had set the table for five in a bright spring theme.

Brian doled out our steaks and we dished ourselves portions of various salads. Chris poured me another glass of sangria.

"Come on, now, don't give up," Bob reassured me.

"I truly think the man I'm looking for doesn't exist; or he's simply not single."

Sue said, "Maybe it's like an address you're trying to find. You have to believe the building exists in order to find it." She was pragmatic that way.

"You're kinda intimidating," Bob said. "I mean, look at you. Over fifty and still attractive, thin, kind and funny. Not to mention the fact that you hold a master's degree, published a book and drive a BMW. No pressure."

"Right," Brian agreed.

"No one's feeling the pressure, I assure you," I said with heated frustration.

"What would your ideal date be?" Sue asked.

"Not that I've given it much thought," I lied, "but it would be lovely to be invited out to dinner by a man who actually knows what he wants and is ready for real commitment."

"Okay, so let's open up some space for him," Brian said. He got up and grabbed an empty patio chair. "Move over and let's set the table for our future guest and friend."

"Yeah," Chris echoed. She retrieved a full place setting from behind the bar, complete with a linen napkin.

Chris poured some sangria into the stemware and we put a roll of crusty bread on the plate for staging.

Sue took a candle from the window sill and put it on the table. Bob lit the candle with the striker.

Brian then played the iconic song When a Man Loves a Woman by the Righteous Brothers. "A toast to Michelle," he said raising his glass, "may the perfect man be right around the corner. May he see in Michelle warmth, depth of character, and a generous and adventurous spirit."

"And may he also like steak and golf," added Bob.

"To her last first date," Chris said.

Sue picked up the empty glass. "Wherever he may be, may he know that there are friends waiting to greet him with open hearts; and may he find his final destination quickly."

The five of us clinked to my future husband.

I shed more than one tear for my friends' graciousness. While I wait, I have peace knowing that I am never alone.