Volume 1, Issue 3 & 4 - Diverse Voices Quarterly

FindYourMate.com
Diverse Voices Quarterly, Vol. 1, Issue 3 & 4 62
by
James R. Tomlinson
Ruth Mondo hates the sound of bells. When she was thirteen, Johnny Spiegel
rang a cowbell and moo-moo-mooed her as she labored down the Bainesburg Junior
High corridors. She hated wedding bells too. Ruth’s momma (God rest her soul)
unintentionally conditioned her like Pavlov’s dog to fly into a fit of rage at the mere
mention of nuptials. But after thirty-three years of loneliness, after seven diets, after
two rather extensive exercise programs, after one gastro-bypass surgery, and after
three shrinks, Ruth felt a glimmer of hope due to her active account at
FindYourMate.com. Her latest Internet profile suited her just fine: Average-sized
woman with bubbly personality searching for financially secure man.
Ruth entered Gordy’s Toyz-N-Things, determined as ever, whispering to herself,
“Small steps for Ruthie.”
Then the bell quivered.
And if that wasn’t enough, the old man behind the counter swiveled in his stool
and said, “If you’re here for the Wii Fit or Dance Dance Revolution, try Target.”
She hadn’t time for insults—she was on a mission. And he hadn’t time for
conversation—the Detroit Tigers and New York Yankees were slugging it out on his
black and white Zenith.
Before Ruth’s forward momentum could propel her down the aisle, and perhaps
because of her loose-fitting slacks, excess jangling skin, and Hershey Kiss physique,
he did what she despised, what she thought of as patronizing if not downright
disrespectful: He mercy winked at her.
So she upped his charitable gesture with one of her own, “Do you have
something in your eye?”
He let her rude comment slide and used a different approach. “You here for
something special?”
Aid.”
“No,” she answered, then continued, “Buy some eyewash. They have it at Rite-
He swiveled back to his game mumbling under his breath, “Not funny.” It was
bad enough his team lacked a quality pitcher.
Ruth continued her forward progress down aisle four and approached the back
wall, anxious to peruse her favorite children’s book for the agreed upon amount. She