Page 17 of Dating and Other Theories
“It’s not a sham. It’s just a blind date…under slightly modified circumstances.”
His weight shifted from one foot to the other as his eyes darted around her apartment. He looked like he wanted to pace, but was trying to restrain himself. “Is it really a blind date though, if only one of the people on the date knows it’s a blind date and the other one thinks it’s a date-date? Cause that seems a lot like a lie to me.”
“Think of it like a hybrid date—half blind date, half date-date. But the principle is the same as a regular date. You’re both trying each other on for size to see how you like the fit.”
“Yeah,” he said without enthusiasm.
“What’s the matter? You liked her when you met the other night, right?” Esther was getting impatient with all his second-guessing. He’d already agreed to the arrangement. She shouldn’t have to keep convincing him to go along with it.
He shrugged. “She seemed okay.”
Okay? Yesterday she was cute. Esther huffed, gritting her teeth. “Don’t overcomplicate it. You both like each other, and you’re going on a date. It’s as simple as that.”
“I guess.” He still looked unconvinced.
“Remember,” she said, crossing her arms, “your script notes are at stake here.”
He sighed, shoulders sagging. “Yeah, I know. Believe me.” He nodded at the script sitting on the coffee table. “You think you’ll be able to start on that tonight?”
“I don’t know,” Esther said. “Maybe. I don’t want to rush through it. I want to give it the attention it deserves. You know, really take my time and dig into the details.”
He nodded. “If you have any questions—”
“I’ll write ’em down,” Esther said, herding him toward the door. “We good?”
“Yeah. Okay.” He nodded half-heartedly. “I’ll see ya.”
“Good luck on your date!” Esther called out as the door closed behind him.
Later that night, Esther put on her favorite llama pajamas, settled into bed with Sally Ride curled up next to her, and flipped to the first page of Jonathan’s script.
It shouldn’t take any longer to read a screenplay than it would to watch a movie, right? So, like, two hours, give or take. Easy peasy. How bad could it be?
It was bad, she quickly discovered.
It was appallingly, offensively bad.
If Jonathan’s script were made into a movie, it would easily be the worst movie Esther had ever seen.
It was like if Michael Bay and Uwe Boll decided to write a screenplay together, got in a fight partway through, and gave it to Darren Aronofsky to finish—drunk.
She only got halfway through before literally flinging it across the room in anger.
This was going to be way more difficult than she’d anticipated. She didn’t know where start with her notes. The only way to fix the thing would be to scrub it from existence entirely. How did you put that into feedback?
Why had she agreed to do this? If time machines existed, she would go back twenty-four hours and punch herself in the face for making this stupid bargain.
Jinny had sure better enjoy her date with Jonathan. She’d better like it a lot.
Chapter Six
Friday night, while Esther was watching the clock and waiting for Jinny to call and tell her how the date had gone, she forced herself to finish reading Jonathan’s script.
It was a Sisyphean effort. The thing was just so bad. So bad.
Esther didn’t know anything about writing per se, but she knew movies. She was a huge fan of movies, and she’d read a lot of movie reviews. She knew what made for a good movie, and she knew what made for a bad one.
This was a bad movie.
