Mae Meets Rich

This is just a little something I wrote a while back and found it recently. I was just experimenting with different writing styles and I liked this as it flowed easily - a quick read that doesn't involve a lot of thinking! For those who want to be lazy and just escape...

Mae Meets Rich

Mae felt out of her depth. She yearned to be back in her comfort zone and feel in control of every situation, a place where surprises did not exist.

Friends used to call her Mystic Meg as she had a sixth sense ability of knowing what people would say, their reactions to every circumstance and how the story ends. She was good and she knew it. Mae was the one who jumped at every opportunity to be spontaneous and care free, living life with no expectations and doing what the hell she wanted. She was the one who went backpacking by herself to remote parts of Kenya, who moved in with a man after a week just because he did amazing Arnie expressions and after finally accepting her outrageous red hair, she spent a year dying it various rainbow colours. This was all in her 20’s.

Mae’s 30’s were non memorable with a string of mundane relationships, unexpected disappointments and the dreaded bingo arms syndrome. It was a decade where her facial muscles forgot how to form a smile and at the end of every sentence was a frustrated sigh.

By the time Mae reached 40 she felt past her sell by date and was afraid of being considered a member of mutton-dressed-as-lamb anonymous group. A week after her birthday she promptly brought a new wardrobe, one suitable for the confident-sexier-middle-aged-woman. Keeping a brave face during the shopping excursion she returned the plastic smiles of the big-busted-small-waist shop assistants. They really annoyed her and were a painful reminder of her long lost youth.

At the end of the day Mae had collapsed on the floor in a tearful heap. She was barely through the door and did not hear the soft padded footsteps or see the tiger print shopping trolley parked in the hallway.

“What’s d’matter luv?” Mum had let herself in, again.

Mae moaned. This was one of those moments where she regretted giving her a spare key. “Oh mum it’s awful,” she shrieked, “my life is over, I’m now 40 and everyone knows it!”

            Mum chuckled, almost dropping her cup of tea. She bent down and gently patted Mae’s red curls, an attempt to bring comfort whilst neatening the hairy mess. “It’ll be ‘right luv, you’ll see.”

It wasn’t all right, the grey cloud stayed and it was a wake up call when one day she didn’t recognise the desperately pasty skinned woman in the bathroom mirror. That was the same day she decided she needed to find a man and www.nicetomeet.com promised her one.

           

*

It took ages getting ready that morning, a lot longer than usual. Rich’s fashion sense was simple – only black, grey and white clothing made it into his wardrobe – yet choosing an outfit was difficult. After starring into his wardrobe for what seemed liked an eternity, he closed his eyes, grabbed a top and a pair of bottoms, looked in the mirror and was happy with his choice.

He flossed his pearly whites until the floss turned pink, shaved his face until it was smooth as a baby’s bottom and carefully trimmed his ear hair with experienced precision, using pointed nail scissors. The hairs were not that long, their existence just annoyed him. He always thought about Grandad Frank’s bush that grew from both ears and his chest hair that blended into his beard. Rich was determined never to be like that; he hated hair and didn’t give a monkeys if some people thought hair equalled masculinity.

A girlfriend who – once they became serious – after four months of casual dating decided to foolishly initiate a conversation about changing his look. She even had the audacity to show him a glossy women’s magazine with rugged male models and over exposed body hair sprouting out of private places like fresh blades of grass. Rich didn’t know what was worst, that she felt the need for a cave man or that she was comparing him to sexy tanned men.

Rich eased his blue Fiesta out the drive and hoped for a manic-free journey. Lately he’d gotten tried of unsmiling faces frustrated with unmoving traffic and being on the receiving end of road rage that always left him feeling like a battered punch bag – he hated conflict and avoided it at every opportunity. London does that to people, makes them unreasonable, miserable and down right rude, Rich was determined that nothing was going to spoil his day. The pretty blond nicked named ‘Sunshine’ was waiting and willing to meet him.

*

The meeting place was a bit unusual. The 10k fun run for people with disabilities at Hyde Park was not Mae’s idea of a romantic hot spot. She hated Central London, the chattering crowds, the city noise, the retching collage of unrecognisable smells, all things she tried to avoid.

The rendezvous bench near the finish line was damp. Mae sat down and pinned a white carnation to her jacket collar. ‘Mister Tall’ gave no details of what he would be wearing but thankfully Mae remembered to stuff his profile photo in her bag. He was absolutely gorgeous, she loved his neatly designer trimmed beard and olive complexion. She thought about how she was going to explain her changed appearance; the photo she uploaded onto her profile was not her, hopefully he hated blondes and would find her charming.

Mae felt like a mug. Over an hour went by and the cabbage smelling old man next to her was not ‘Mister Tall’. To make matters worse she felt the 40’s grey cloud creeping up on her and she did not want to get all emotional in public. She threw the photo and white carnation into the bin beside her. She hoped he did not receive the messages she left on his phone, it went straight to voicemail and it was probably switched off. Mum did warn her about meeting strange men off the ‘net’ – like she understood what the ‘net’ was – but there weren’t any warnings about being stood up and hating it. Cabbage man smiled a toothless grin at her as she got up; she nodded a goodbye avoiding eye contact in case he got the wrong impression and followed her.

The eye-catching stalls intended to support the 10k event were inviting and despite Mae’s mood she couldn’t resist the sweet temptation of a coffee and cake. A stall towered by huge umbrellas and cramped with comfy sofas and tables seemed a popular choice.

*

Rich was late; his journey was a nightmare. He was unsure what was worst, that some idiot knocked a cup of coffee over his phone when paying for petrol or the accident on the A40 that left a lengthy trail of snail moving cars. He thought his luck had changed when he found parking straight away but when he got to the bench where Sunshine was meant to be – it was empty

*

Mae was so preoccupied with eating and drinking that it took her awhile to notice the handsome man in a wheelchair wanting to park his self at her table. He asked if anyone was sitting here.

            “Nope, it’s all yours, let me move this from here,” replied Mae. She picked up the rubbish from the table and chucked it away. “It’s a nice event isn’t it?” she continued.

            “Yeah, I come here every year”.

            “Do you take part or just watch?”

            “Used to race years ago, was meant to meet someone here but it got cancelled,” shrugged the man.

            Mae and the man continued talking until a waiter interrupted them and placed a drink and muffin on the table.

            “Here you go Rich, just how you like it,” said the waiter.

            “Thanks mate,” turning to Mae, “sorry… I’m Rich,” laughed Rich.

            “And I’m Mae, nice to meet you,” mockingly Mae stretched out her hand towards him, they shook hands.

            “So what brought you here Mae?”

            “I was meant to meet someone too.”

Copyright © 2014 Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks) 
All rights reserved. No portion of this post may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or by otherwise without the express written permission from Sonneteer Articulates (aka Traysi Matthew, Traysi Speaks)