Chapter 3

No, I wasn’t nervous about my upcoming date.

Much.

Honest.

Maybe a little.

The reason? Making a first date to walk our dogs seemed just too... normal. It lacked the conventionality and formality of a restaurant date, it was almost as if we’d already met. My suggestion of a doggie play date had been spontaneous, her response natural and unfeigned. In some ways that was immensely reassuring, in other ways worrying – this wasn’t one of the complicated steps required for the full SoCal mating dance. At least we had in common the fact that we weren’t native Angelenos, but by stepping out of the social norms and meeting elsewhere than some crowded restaurant, we’d almost committed ourselves to getting on as well as if this was the third or fourth date.

Yeah, I know that sounds odd, but my male pride was now involved. This date just HAD to work out. I guess after three trainwreck but correctly choreographed introductory dates where my date-selecting judgment had been shown to be flawed, there was also the thought that maybe I had a little too much riding on this one. It felt right, but so had the others. If this meeting also turned out to be a disaster, would I have the courage to put my toe back into the dating ocean and risk yet another killer blow to my ego?

I got myself an unnecessary haircut at work Friday, and spent much of Saturday considering exactly what to wear for our playdate. I didn’t want to insult GND30 by dressing too casual, nor worry her by overdoing what was supposedly only a trip to the dog park, even if it was also a first date. In the end, the fawn chinos, long-sleeved shirt and panama hat won out. Exactly what I usually wore at Corriganville Park. Fairly smart, timeless classic, and more importantly, something I felt comfortable in. Not projecting anything I wasn’t.

While Max was eating his supper – though preparation and service take far longer than ingestion, so in reality he’d finished his meal while I was picking up my phone – I messaged GND30 through the dating app to check we were still on; we were.

I slept well, took Max around the block, fed him his breakfast and then showered and groomed myself. I always clean-shave every morning; my work requires it, but I admit to taking extra care to look my best. Then I had to use up an hour before getting dressed – gotta keep the creases looking freshly-ironed.

Max and I took the Kuehner Dr. exit from the 118 (or Ronald Reagan Freeway) and arrived at 7001 Smith Road with twenty minutes to spare; it being Sunday there were already quite a few people about. I wondered how long GND30 would take to find us; but I had my phone with me, and we could always message each other. I drove up to the far end of the parking lot, found some shade to leave the car, and let my excited boy out of the back. He dashed off and watered four trees in quick succession, sniffed quite a few more, and then started ranging around on the rough grass, nose to the ground in his usual ritual.

I was standing with a poop bag in my hand, waiting for Max to finish doing his business, when there was a peal of girlish laughter behind me. I looked around, and there she was, with two small brown Pomeranians on leashes. Figure hugging blue jeans, calf-length tan boots, a loose white floral print shirt-dress, and a fetching white Western hat perched on blonde hair which was tied up at the back. Tall. She looked great. Didn’t seem thirty at all. “I guess that’s Max? Is now a bad time for you?”

I chuckled. “He’s ... doing what he does best. One moment, and I’ll be right with you.”

I scooped up the offending item while Max kicked his back legs in pride at what he’d just extruded, then I stood upright and smiled at her as I tied the bag. “Hi, I’m Michael Hulse, Mike. Sorry about that. I’d shake hands, but you know where they’ve just been.”

Max was madly wagging his tail as he got to know the two strangers; I quickly looked down to check that they were all okay, then back at her.

She was still smiling. Lovely white teeth, a touch of lip gloss, straight slightly over-proportioned nose, gorgeous bright green-hazel eyes under the brim of her hat. Distinctly prettier than your average girl next door back home, but nothing exceptional for Los Angeles. Easy on the eyes, though. Very easy on the eyes.

The big difference from my other dates was the smile. She looked like she was genuinely pleased to meet me, and that just lit up her face. Her profile photograph had been accurate enough, but hadn’t nearly done justice to the reality.

“Hey, I’m Melanie Jorgensen, Mel to my friends. These two babies are Kara and Tara. Nice to meet you at last. Which way are you headed?”

“I was thinking of the Silvertown set location. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure! It’s a great day for a slow amble.”

“Let me just drop this in a poop barrel.”

She slipped the leashes off of her two and we walked along together, side by side with the dogs running around us. In the spring sunshine it was just pleasantly warm, not uncomfortably hot as it would be later in the summer. Joggers and mountain bikes passed us on the way; there was plenty of room on this route, the narrower trails came later. The three dogs settled down to our speed, Kara and Tara’s little legs dictating the pace. Max was happy to dawdle and keep his nose to the ground.

There were plenty of people about but not intruding, which was a major reason why I’d suggested Corriganville. We could still have a totally private and uninterrupted conversation, but I’d hoped she’d feel safer meeting a stranger for the first time than if the place had been deserted.

Mel started the conversation. “You know this place well?”

“Reasonably; I’ve read most of the information plaques in my time, but I couldn’t quote you chapter and verse on which part of Hollywood history happened where.”

“Yeah, it’s awesome, I love it so much, I just wish the film sets hadn’t burned down in the 1970s. You ever been in the concrete camera room under the lake?”

I chuckled. “Yes, incredible place. You know that’s where they filmed ‘Creature from the Black Lagoon’?”

A grin and a tip of the head, “I know it. And, yeah, I’ve watched the film a few times for laughs.”

We stopped and re-read another information plaque about the filming of ‘The Lone Ranger’, then walked on. “Ever been over to the Paramount Ranch in the Santa Monica Mountains?”

“A few years back. It was a fun day out. I really ought to do it again.”

“I totally love that whole place. The Peter Strauss Ranch House is quite something, Western Town is a must-see.”

“You wouldn’t by any chance be a film buff, Mel?”

She chuckled. “That’s partly the reason why I’m in LA. Always wanted to see how they did cinematography in the old days, when they were here because of the natural light and guaranteed good weather. Before it all went technical and computer graphics. I did my bachelor’s degree in media and film back in Atlanta, but then all the best jobs were over here on the West Coast, so as I got tired of flying Southwest, I moved here the year after I graduated. There wasn’t the volume of filming in Atlanta; as a freelance camera operator I wasn’t hardly making a living, let alone paying off the college loans. I did a bit of glamor modeling in between being behind the camera, but again that wasn’t enough to pay the bills, so I moved here. Ten years later, I’m still in the film business, in the post-production and direction line. I make a pretty good living now, and I still enjoy the work. What do you do, Mike? You said in your profile you work in a hospital. You a doctor?”

“Thank the lord, no. I’m a mere administrator. It may not pay nearly so well, but I’ve paid off all my college loans and I don’t lose a whole chunk of my salary in insurance premium payments. Okay, so I get a lot of the grief without the glamor, but I have most of my weekends and evenings off, and that’s beginning to matter to me. I just want someone special to share them with, which is why I joined the site.”

She grinned. “What you said. Too much time with just me and Kara and Tara. I’ve watched all my box sets until I can predict the next bit of dialog, computer games don’t have nearly the same thrill as they used to, and I’ve finally realized that I’ve put my professional life before my private life for too long.”

“Home alone on Valentine’s night?”

A snicker, which somehow succeeded in conveying both reluctance to admit the secret and joy in confiding it to someone who might actually understand rather than mock. Her amusement was a real cute sound, adult, not a kid. “Yeah. You know it. Tara and Kara both sent cards, though. You too?”

“Darn! Max didn’t think of that, but then he’s a guy. He didn’t even buy me any candy, or cook me a candlelit dinner. I’ll have to remind him next year.”

She laughed, a genuine expression that she found my comment funny, and then she shot back a riposte. “And I guess, as you’re a guy too, you didn’t get him anything either?”

I held my hands up in acknowledgment of the hit. “Guilty as charged. Sorry, Max, that was kinda selfish of me. You can’t have the candy, but I should at least have bought you a doggie treat.”

She nodded approvingly. Max had briefly looked up at the sound of his name, and now ignored me again as he investigated another clump of scrubby grass. He loves playing the intrepid fearless hunter, which is why I try to bring him to places like Corriganville where he can indulge his primitive canine instincts in places where there are real scents of real wild animals, not the neighbors’ cat.

We arrived at the site of the “Silvertown” buildings, now just mere brick or concrete shapes on the ground. There was a bench under a tree, and I guided us over there. She sat down beside me with a sigh, pulling off her hat and straightening her hair. I got a better look at her face without the shadow; nice skin with only a minimum of makeup, own eyelashes, clear greeny-hazel eyes. Yeah, she did indeed look like my image of a girl next door. Fresh, clean, genuine, guile-less and there to fall for. I put the conversation back to her. “Your feet recovered from Denver? Sounded like you were real glad to be home.”

“Pretty much; they ached for a while. I’m not used to standing in heels all day. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE my heels, but there are limits. Hey, I’m so sorry about the mix-up over the messages and the phones. I was worried that you might think I’d replied to you and then changed my mind, and you might not get back to me again.”

“No, that’s fine, I guessed you might have other things going on. So what’s with the two phones?”

She grimaced, “I had my first smartphone stolen while I was working about a year after I arrived in LA; I didn’t know enough at the time about protecting my personal information, and I ended up having to move to a new apartment, change my numbers, and create new social media accounts. It was a real clusterfuck, and I’m determined not to go through all that again. I value my privacy, and it seemed the best way to separate the two.”

“Yeah, I know a guy who suffered identity theft; it took him forever to get back to normal, and he’s still pretty wary about everything.”

We swapped horror stories; she’d had a colleague who found a pervert camped out almost in her back yard and had quickly find another place to live. She’d been stalked on Facebook herself and found that real creepy, so much so that she’d left the platform; I guess that had reinforced her fear of intrusion.

The dogs had gotten a tad restless just sitting while we talked, so her hat went back on and we headed over towards the parking lot, strolling slowly as we chatted about cars. She drove a small SUV and I commented that she didn’t need all that much space for Kara and Tara. She grinned. “I used to run around in one of those little red Mazda sports convertibles, but they’re too darn low on the road; so many people are driving tanks these days that I reckoned it was only a matter of time before I became road kill. Besides, I can get way more camera stuff in this.”

We got to her vehicle and stopped. Mel helped Kara and Tara into the back, then turned to me. She suddenly seemed a little hesitant; I thought for a dreadful moment that this was it, and I was about to get the bums rush, falling at the first hurdle.

“Mike, ... I know of a little place in Simi Valley where we can get a quiet drink and a snack; it’s ... not too busy on Sundays. You got the time to talk some more, get to know each other a little better?”

That was unexpected, but very welcome. I’d made a good enough first impression to be worth a second look; she wanted to prolong our date. I already knew that I did. I gave her my very best smile and put some real enthusiasm into my voice. “Sure, Mel, I’d love to. I’ve really enjoyed talking with you. Shall I follow you?”

“Great! I’ll try not to jump too many lights.”

Max jumped in the back of my car and I followed Mel as she drove sedately into Simi Valley; she turned off the main drag and pulled in a small lot behind a bar, parking in the shade. I took the space beside her, opened the windows a crack for Max to get some end of February air, and let her guide me inside the building. It was about half full with customers, quietly talking at tables. The music system was playing guitar instrumentals at just the right volume; we wouldn’t have to shout at each other. Too many places mistake loudness for atmosphere; as she’d said, we were here to get to know one another a little better, not to strain our ears. This seemed to be a good choice; I hoped the cooking lived up to her recommendation.

We both hit the restrooms to wash our hands, then Mel found us a small table over to one side. I held her chair for her like my daddy taught me, she smiled and thanked me, and a hispanic waitress immediately appeared for our drinks order.

We went for a large iced water and a glass of Pinot Grigio each; Mel recommended the soft tacos, warning me that they were cooked to order and would take a few minutes. The drinks arrived straight away. My companion dug in her purse and pulled out a smartphone case; I noticed it had a letter ‘M’ embossed on the front. She saw my grimace and hurriedly spoke up. “Mike, I’m so sorry, I should have asked. I want to ask you some questions, and I made notes on my phone so I wouldn’t forget.”

I smiled as I explained, “It’s okay, Mel, it’s just ... I met up with another lady from the dating site and she spent most of our so-called date checking her phone for messages from other people, which kinda showed me where I stood on her list of priorities. It was rude and disrespectful, and told me a whole lot about why she was still single.”

She put her hand over her mouth in surprise. “Oh my, I didn’t mean it like that. I’ve had quite a few meetings with people from the site, and I’ve learned to get the difficult questions over early so we aren’t wasting each other’s time. I’ll be honest, I like what I’ve seen of you so far, and I’d like to meet up again, but only if you are taking this as seriously as I am. I’m genuinely thirty years old, and I absolutely DO want to settle down. Do you mind if I start off?”

I grinned back to reassure her that I wasn’t taking offence. “No, I don’t mind at all. I’m glad you’re taking that business-like approach. I’m real serious as well, like I said, I’m looking for a life partner. My real age is 32. You can check my driver’s license if you wish. And, Mel, just so you know it from the start, I’ve enjoyed being with you this morning and, if you’re agreeable, I’d very much like to see you again and get to know you better.”

That earned me another white-toothed smile. I liked that, it was genuine, stretched her cheeks and reached her eyes. Too many residents of the City of Angels only smile because they feel they ought to, or because they want something, or because they went for a cheap face-lift and smiling is now their only facial expression. Botched Botox and copious collagen are not the worst things you can do to your face; it takes a cut-rate scalpel to really mess you up. Or too many repeat trips to the well of eternal youth. I’m thinking Joan Rivers here. She should have stopped while she was ahead. Anyway, I was pretty sure now that Mel’s countenance was 100% as nature intended.

“Thank you! I’m taking that as a big compliment. That was questions one and two. Question three. Precise relationship status?”