W hen Isabela waitressed in colege, she saw customers come in for blind dates al the time. “Has a man named Stuart come in yet?” they would ask. Or “Is there someone here who’s waiting for a Jessica?” When Isabel a would shake her head, they would look around nervously. “I’m meeting someone,” they would explain, and she would nod. “Someone,” Isabel a would think. “Someone that you don’t know.”
Isabel a always felt bad for these people, wandering into a restaurant, looking for something but not knowing what it was. “How sad,” she always thought to herself. “How sad and a little pathetic.” She remembered this as she agreed to go on her first blind date. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,”
she said to Lauren.
“You promised,” Lauren said. “You have to.”
It was the summer of yes—that’s what Isabel a and Lauren decided. “We’re going to say yes to every invitation that comes our way,” they told each other. “We’re going to be positive, and put positive energy out there, and then we wil meet someone.”
Mary decided that she would be a spectator for the summer of yes. She was studying for the bar exam and made it clear that she couldn’t say yes to anything. “I’m going to have to pass,” she said. “But I total y support you guys.”
“You think we’re crazy, don’t you?” Lauren asked.
“Maybe a little,” Mary said. “But it can’t hurt to say yes, can it? Plus, if you get Isabel a to go on a date, then it wil al be worth it.”
“That’s what I was thinking!” Lauren said.
“You guys, I’m right here,” Isabel a said.
“Yeah,” they said, “we know.”
Isabel a hadn’t dated anyone since Ben moved out. “Get back out there!” her friends kept saying. Isabel a didn’t want to.
“Get back on the horse,” her sister, Mol y, told her.
“You get back on the horse,” Isabel a said to her.
“Nice,” her sister said. “Very mature.”
Her cousin suggested online dating. “That’s how I met Roy,” she said. Roy was a dentist with a beak for a nose, and he slurped his spit whenever he talked. “Wow,” Isabel a said. “I’l think about that.”
“I think I miss Ben,” she told Lauren one night.
“No, you don’t,” Lauren said.
“But sometimes, I real y think I do.”
Lauren sighed. “Isabel a, you miss the essence of a boy. That’s al .”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s better that he’s gone. He was a pothead, remember?”
“What are you?”
“I’m a pot enthusiast,” Lauren explained.
“Right,” Isabel a said.
Isabel a had never lived alone before, not real y, anyway. She’d gotten her own place years ago, but Ben was there almost every night, and then he moved in. Now that he was gone, it was just her and the dust bal s.
Sometimes she talked out loud just to hear her voice. She missed having someone there to discuss what to eat for dinner. “I think I’l make a tuna sandwich,” she would say to no one. “Or maybe a veggie burger,” she would tel the couch.
She started sleeping with the television on at night. It blared reruns and gave her strange dreams. One night she woke up to a pop! and the TV
screen was black. She sat up in bed and looked around. The air smel ed like electrical burning, so she unplugged the TV and tried to go back to sleep.
“I could’ve died,” Isabel a said to Mary the next day. “It could have exploded and started a fire al over the place.”
“I think you would have woken up,” Mary said.
“Maybe.”
“I wonder what happened.”
“I kil ed the TV,” Isabel a explained. “I was too needy.”
“You have to meet my friend Jackson,” her coworker told her. “He’s an accountant, he loves to go wine tasting, and he’s a ton of fun.”
“Okay,” Isabel a said. “Yes, okay.”
Her coworker arranged it so that Isabel a and Jackson would meet at a bar and then go to a Mets game. “You are going to have so much fun!”
her coworker told her. Isabel a smiled and felt sick inside. “Oh, one more thing, just so you aren’t surprised,” her coworker said. “Jackson is a little bit bigger than most guys.”
“Okay,” Isabel a said. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
It turned out that Jackson was, in fact, obese. And by the third inning, he was so drunk that Isabel a couldn’t understand him. He yel ed at the guy in front of him for standing up, he yel ed at the beer man for being too slow, and he yel ed at the hot dog guy for running out of relish.
“What about me says, Set me up with an obese person?” Isabel a wailed to Mary and Lauren later that night. She had made it through the game and then gone to chug wine at Lauren’s apartment.
“Nothing,” Mary said firmly. “Nothing about you suggests that you should date an obese person.” Lauren nodded in agreement.
“Your coworker is obviously an idiot. Or an asshole,” Lauren said. “I’m not sure which, but she’s one of them.”
“You guys, I mean he was real y fat. Seriously.” She took a Kleenex and blew her nose. “Great,” she said. “I’m the meanest person. I date fat people, and now I’m obviously going to hel .”
Isabel a’s friend from high school came to visit. Kerry Mahoney was a chipper blonde who wanted everyone to be married. “I am total y setting you up with my cousin,” she said. “He’s cute and fun, and you guys total y have the same sense of humor. I’m going to give him your number, and maybe you guys can get together next week.”
“Yes,” said Isabel a. “Can I see a picture of him? Okay, yes.”
Isabel a walked into Mexican Radio and looked around for someone who matched the picture she had seen. A boy with brown hair was at the bar, sipping a giant frozen pink drink with mango floating on top. He looked at her and smiled and she smiled back. “Isabel a?” he said in a singsong voice, tilting his head to the right.
“Hey-a,” she said. She meant to say hi, but it came out wrong. It was just that she was shocked that she was on a date with a gay man.
“First obese and then gay,” she said to Lauren later that night.
“At least it wasn’t both at once,” Lauren said.
“Are you ever afraid that you aren’t going to meet anyone?” Isabel a asked Lauren one night. They were finishing their last drinks at the bar, and Isabel a final y asked the question she’d been thinking for a while now. She didn’t want to say it out loud. She was embarrassed that she even thought it, and waited for Lauren to lecture her about being a strong woman. Instead, Lauren finished her drink, crushed an ice cube in her teeth, and said, “Al the time.”
“I’m exhausted,” Lauren said. She was on two kickbal teams, a softbal team, and was an alternate for a beach vol eybal league. “I have scabs al over my legs,” she said, pul ing up her pants. “Look! Look at this!”
“I don’t think the summer of yes should be taken so literal y,” Isabel a said. “It’s not like you have to do everything people ask.”
“Yes, I do,” Lauren said. “That’s what I set out to do, and now I have to fol ow through. I just didn’t know that everyone was going to ask me to be on so many intramural teams. Am I that athletic?”
“Not real y.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Isabel a met a guy sel ing art at a street fair on the Upper East Side. “I’m just trying to make a living doing what I do,” he said. “I’m trying to perfect my craft.”