Virtually Mine: a love story (5 page)

Kate shook her head. “I thought you said
she was an intern to an assistant to a semi-monstrous sized casting director.”

“Who is slumming in commercials in
between, where I can meet her, I know! How do I look?”

Kate tried her best to hold it together.
“Like a waiter?”

Dustin began to unbutton the shirt of his
uniform. “Doesn’t matter. It’s shirtless.”

Kate watched as he took the shirt off and
hung it in his locker. “Shirtless. Great, of course. Then you’re... Great. Just
great.”

There were times when Dustin could be
completely nonsensical and this was certainly one of them. For an actor, he had
very little grasp of nuance. He didn’t seem to get what was being said between
the lines, what Kate wished to heaven he could hear without her having to come
right out and say it. Instead, Dustin grinned broadly, accepting her words as a
compliment. He turned his bare back to her and ambled out the door.

four

♥

I
n the
privacy of his sparsely decorated, one-bedroom apartment, Charlie
painstakingly
labeled a stack of color brochures. The
 
leaflets were every bit as slick as the company they advertised:
Virtually
Mine
. Neatly, he affixed a sticker that said “Operator 52” to each one.
Charlie lined each label up as straight as he could, right beside the contact
info, wanting it to look as legitimate as possible. After all, he reasoned, he
was finally a bona fide Operator for the company and he wanted to do a good job.

Charlie opened one of the brochures. He
studied its offering of Imaginary Boyfriends for lonely-hearted souls desiring
a sense of beau-like companionship and attentions. The Imaginaries pictured
were a variety of ages and types, but every one of them, in his own way, was
just as insanely good-looking as Eric Bender had been. There were chiseled
jaws, broad shoulders, and perfect hairlines straight across the board. There
wasn’t a single unstraightened, unwhitened tooth in the bunch.

Charlie
looked into the mirror, examining his reflection image in contrast. It’s not
that he was bad looking, but he knew he was no Eric Bender. That was for sure.
Charlie had never given much thought to his average, boy-next-door looks. With
his dark hair and brown eyes, he was the spitting image of his father,
something that had delighted his dearly departed mother to no end.

Maybe I should get contacts
, Charlie
thought. He took off his glasses to check out the change, but quickly put them
back on, unable to see himself without them.

Charlie cracked the door of his apartment
and peeked out. The coast was clear. He sneaked door-to-door, hanging one of
his
Virtually Mine
brochures on each knob, even Mrs. Teasdale’s.

Circling back to Kate’s door, right next
to his, he checked around. There was still no one to be seen. Surreptitiously,
he dangled a brochure on Kate’s doorknob, then whispered heavenward:

“
Okay, I know in the tenth grade I
told you I was putting the whole chimichanga on Gina Paphites, and I’m not
saying I’m faulting you for not coming through for me on that one, but...okay,
this once... Just
—”

Suddenly, M.J. opened their apartment
door.
 
Charlie whirled.

“Charlie, hi!”

“M.J!
 
You’re not—”

“Littering Santa Monica with parking
tickets? Yeah, I...took a personal day. Check out what I just made.” M.J.
flashed a computer-generated business card. It read:

No time to walk your favorite pooch? Just Call: M.J. Poster, Dog Walker
Extraordinaire!
 
310/555-6243

“Okay,” M.J. went on, “I get that there
are pet limits in this building, but it’s totally a house-calls thing. So,
what’s all this?”

Charlie panicked, realizing that M.J. had
noticed the brochures she saw in his hand. “Me? What, you mean these? I...
Well, you know those pesky solicitors, always selling some new something or
other. Yesterday it was botox coupons, today it’s...” Charlie looked at the
brochures. “What are these, anyway? Because I’m just, sort of, collecting
them—in my capacity as...manager—picking them up, so all of you residents don’t
have to be bothered with recycling them.”

With that, Charlie reached for the
brochure on the knob to Kate and M.J.’s apartment. He buckled as M.J. snagged
it first, then tossed it into the apartment and closed the door.

“I got it.”

“Okay,” Charlie replied. “So...I’ll consider
yours...disposed of in a completely eco-friendly manner.”

“Yup. Bye.” And with that, M.J. headed
away.

Charlie looked back at Kate’s apartment
door. He glanced back at the brochures he’d hung on the other doors. “Bye! I’ll
just grab these last few...” Charlie trailed behind M.J. as she left, taking
brochures off of all the remaining doors where he’d just hung them, knowing
that the only one he cared to hear from was Kate. “There. Got it. So, that’s
done.”

Hyperventilating, Charlie waved at M.J.
as she rounded the back corner to the parking garage, his mission accomplished.

♥   
♥    ♥

Back at the Doo-Wop Dinette, Kate dressed salads as Re
esa poured iced
teas nearby. As it turned out, Kate had decided to cover for Dustin. It gave
her the chance to vent about what had just happened to Reesa’s understanding
ears.

“I can’t believe he just told you that I
brought it up that we should see other people,” Kate sighed.

“I’d say he believed it, too,” Reesa
nodded. “All due respect, but the boy is not that good an actor.”

Kate wiped a spill off the counter.
“Well, I said the words, more like a facetious question to him, which he wasn’t
supposed to answer ‘yes’ to, much less flip it around on me.”

Reesa chuckled. She grinned like she
always did when she was about to confide about some juicy tidbit from her
wealth of marital experience. “You know what I did, way back when that slippery
Andre over there was trying to shuffle the deck?” Reesa nodded discreetly
toward her husband of fifteen years, the cook behind the counter.

Intrigued, Kate stepped closer. “What?
Tell me.”

Reesa lowered her voice. “I got me this
fine looking cousin, uhm-hmm. I got him to parade ‘round on my arm, like we was
some kind of wailin’ hot thing.
 
Not two
shakes before Andre come runnin’ to ask for my hand.”

♥   
♥    ♥

A
sea of actors filled the lobby outside half a dozen audition studios within a
large casting co-op. Men in suits prepped lines around one door, cheerleaders
practiced moves around another, grannies flanked the third, little people the
fourth, and bikers the fifth.

Still shirtless, Dustin passed by them
all, enjoying the attention his washboard abs drew. Nearing the sixth casting
studio, Dustin checked the board for the product listing. It was right there,
just as Wissy had said it would be, but oddly enough, all of the guys waiting
nearby were wearing shirts.

Dustin didn’t let it bother him. He knew
he’d followed Wissy’s instructions. Besides, he never minded when he attracted
attention. He told himself how impressed Wissy would be when she saw how
committed he was to booking this gig.

Wissy popped out of Studio Six with a
camera. “Eric Bender,” she called.

Immediately, Eric rose from his seat.

“Against the door,” she directed.

Dustin watched as Eric stepped into place
and, with his face at a jaunty tilt, winningly smiled for the camera.

Dustin wished that this Eric guy hadn’t
been so good looking. In fact, as Dustin glanced around at the men who were
waiting, his confidence began to wane. The thing was, Dustin was used to being
the best looking guy in the room. He thought of himself as a solid eight and a
half. The problem was, in this particular room, he was surrounded by stone cold
tens.

Wissy snapped the shot and handed Eric
the photo that her camera spat out.

“Thanks,” Eric said. “How we doing for
time?”

Wissy checked her watch. “Slammed. But
I’ll squeeze you in.” With warm familiarity, she stroked his arm.

As Eric moved off, Dustin sidled up to
Wissy. “Hey...”

Wissy took a gander at Dustin’s physique.
“Wow. Somebody’s been working out. Okay, don’t hate me, but I totally forgot to
text you. It’s nice casual now. You did bring a shirt, right?”

Dustin did his best to cover the fact
that he did not. “Oh. A shirt. Right.”

Wissy turned to address the group of
waiting auditionees. “Okay, listen up, now. Jean-Luc, Brent, Adam,
Carlos...you’re up.” Shirted hunks rose compliantly.

Dustin searched around in desperation. He
stopped a guy in an open oxford over a v-necked tee. “Dude, can I bum one of
your shirts?”

“Sorry,” the guy replied. “I always book
with this layered look. It’s my trademark.”

Dustin whirled to a man passing by in a
suit. “Hey, you got an undershirt you could loan me?”

“What, are you nuts?” the man asked.

Dustin’s eyes fell back on Eric as he sat
on a bench waiting. “I’ll give you ten bucks for your shirt, man.”

Eric looked up, bemused. “Gee. Hundred
dollar custom made in Italy. Tempting, but no.”

Just then, Wissy called out over the
crowd. “Okay, Eric, Miguel, Ted, and Dustin. You’re on deck.”

Hearing Wissy call his name, Dustin
searched around more frantically than ever. He found himself surrounded with
white-haired grannies in pastel sweaters. Beyond them were the bikers, the
little people, and the cheerleaders. What in the world could he do?

Minutes later, Dustin entered the casting
studio for his very first big audition. As it turned out, he found that there
was no semi-monstrous sized casting director who was slumming in commercials
present, at least not in the audition studio. There was only a video camera to
record the audition, which he learned would be uploaded and posted online for
the clients to view later. They wouldn’t know that Wissy forgot to text Dustin
about needing a shirt. He wouldn’t have a chance to explain. What they saw on
the tape would have to be enough to set him apart from the rest.

Wissy dutifully lined the men up,
training her lens on Eric first. “Tell us your name, into the lens, then show
me your hands as I go down the row. And you are...”

“Eric Bender.” Eric put both hands up
below his face, and then flipped them around for the video camera. Wissy panned
left.

“Hi, I’m Miguel Ruez.” Dustin watched as
Miguel did the same thing with his hands.

Again, Wissy panned. “Next we have...”

“Ted Delaney.”

“And last but not least...” Wissy panned
to Dustin where he stood at the end of the line, wearing a floral, crocheted
granny vest over his otherwise bare chest. Dustin shrugged sheepishly as the
camera reached him. He flashed his hands and a toothy grin, making the absolute
most of it. “Hey. I’m Dustin. Dustin Hunt.”

♥   
♥    ♥

Charlie snugged his tie up to the collar of his dress shirt. He didn’t own much
in the way of business attire. Tee shirts were more his normal speed, but this
day was different. It was his first day as a
Virtually Mine
Operator and
he wanted to be seen in an entirely new way.

Nearing
Samantha’s door, he paused to gather his thoughts. He willed himself to put his
shoulders back like his dad always advised. Resolutely, he rapped on her
doorjamb.

Samantha
rose, a puzzled expression forming. “What’s with the tie? I didn’t know you
owned one.”

“I
didn’t, actually,” Charlie stammered, “but I thought since I’ll be, kind of,
working directly with our clients, now—”

Samantha
perched on her desk. “Think about it, Charlie. It’s not like we can let the
girls actually see you.”

Charlie
did think about it. He thought about it hard. Suddenly, he slumped, feeling as
ridiculous as he realized that he looked.

Still,
Samantha gestured him toward the hall. “Let’s go get you started.”

As
a computer tech, Charlie had heard about
Virtually Mine’s
storehouse of
gift items, but he’d never actually been behind the golden door before.
Samantha swiped a card key and motioned Charlie through security.

Inside,
an enormous room was filled with huge shelving units, laden with gifts that the
company’s Operators distributed on behalf of their client’s Imaginary
Boyfriends. There were silk bouquets, stuffed animals, jeweled trinkets, and
more heart-shaped boxes of candy than Charlie knew existed.

Samantha
breezed through the well-organized aisles with Charlie. “All right, listen up.
I’ll say this once. Cards are labeled by alphabetized occasion, ‘B’ for
birthday before ‘B’ for blanks. Suggested messages for the blank cards are in
the software, which, given your manifest lack of savvy in this arena, you
should rely upon heavily.”