Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Portia Meets the Suitors

Sophomore year, we read The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare in English. It was a pretty good play from what I remembered, but there was one scene in particular that I was given a creative writing assignment for. In the play, Portia, a rich heiress, is bound by the lottery set forth in her father's will where potential suitors meet at her castle and choose items from a box, kind of like a game show. Depending on what box they choose from, they may win the opportunity to marry Portia. The details are a little fuzzy, but the guys that showed up for this little ritual were pretty bizarre, and our assignment was to choose two of those suitors and write out a blind date set in modern day. Rereading mine gave me a few nostalgic laughs, so I was thus inspired to share it with you strangers on the internet.


    "Honestly, Portia, you'll love him! He's so handsome... and really, Porsh, when was the last time you've been on a date, anyway?" Nerissa nagged me, caking on make-up in the bathroom.
    "Yeah, I guess you're right. I don't know, Maybe it is time to move on..."
    "You better believe it, sista! You're not getting any younger, girl- have you seen those wrinkles?!" I rolled my eyes, watching her eye-brow hairs fall into the sink as she plucked them. "Look, I know you miss David, but he was SO BORING! You really deserve a man. You know what I'm saying? You know, someone who's firm and smells like Old Spice...now THAT'S a man!"
    I really didn't understand Nerissa's taste in guys. I swear, she's been going out with the world's most demented guys since the 7th grade. I think watching her exchange saliva with a guy who thought shaving his pits was attractive was enough to make me a little more hesitant than her.
    "I guess..." I lamented my pathetic love life as my eyes sauntered through the room. Nerissa's place was always coated with some toxic chemical with a sissy name, like "Rosemary Indulgence." That and the constant presence of Rick Springfield themed throw pillows made me want to puke. "So, who are you going out with?" I honestly had no idea. It was someone new practically every week.
    "His name's Rupert Xavier! I met him on the way to Victoria's Secret! You know how the therapist office is in the same plaza? Well, I was walking up, and he was walking out, and he was crying! I mean, it isn't every day you get to see a hot guy get emotional!"
    "Right..."
    "So I thought I'd make him feel better and get him what he REALLY wants- and I kissed him!"
    "What?! Nerissa, this is some depressed guy you met downtown! Coming out from his appointment with his therapist!!"
    "Yeah, I know! And he really enjoyed it- I have that affect on people... So I said to come pick me up at 8!"
    "When was this?!"
    "This afternoon!" I watched as she applied thick false lashes. I was mesmerized, really, by the appalling facial expressions that were required to do something that was supposedly cosmetic.
    "Okay...um...so where did you meet MY date?" I asked, getting increasingly concerned.
    "Oh, Brock? I met him inside Victoria's Secret! He was in the underwear section. He's such a beef-cake, I swear... In fact, I almost kept him for myself, but I couldn't. I'm a woman of my word! Besides, he seemed like a few steps up compared to your last boyfriend, so I did you a solid and asked him out for you!"
*DING DONG*
    My heart began to race. I had no idea what to expect. Could I be appealing at all tonight? Could HE?
    "Oh, that's them!" Nerissa tripped on her pumps waddling to the front door. She poofed her hair before opening it for them. I stood up hesitantly. "Hey, sexy!" she exclaimed at Rupert. His facial expression could make a baby consider committing suicide.
    "I brought you some flowers." they wagged by his wrist as he handed them to her. They looked like they were picked about a week ago, and that they were meant to go on someone's grave.
    "Oh, how thoughtful!" Nerissa took what was left of the flowers and flung them on the table.
    "Well I actually brought flowers for ALL of you, so..." Brock had 3 vases cradled in his arms, stuffed with a vast variety of colorful flowers.
    "Wow, Brock! That's very kind of you! Wow, vases and everything!" she took them all into the kitchen.
    "Oh, my aching life..." Rupert lamented.
    "So, Brock," Nerissa stumbled back into the front room. "This is Portia! She's pretty, isn't she?"
    "She's BEAUTIFUL, actually. GORGEOUS. I've never seen anyone more astonishing!! So, yeah..."
    "Wow, thanks..." I said, having trouble believing him.
    "NO! Thank YOU for being so attractive!"
    "Um, no problem..."
    "I sense chemistry!" Nerissa blurted. "Well, come on, boys! Where are you taking us?"
    "What's the point of going anywhere when one day we're all going to stop?" Rupert moaned staring at the floor.
    "Oh, isn't he MYSTERIOUS?" Nerissa said to me, gazing into his bloodshot eyes.
    "Actually, I invented mysteries. I'm the missing link, so..." Brock wrapped his artificial arm around me, and yes, he smelled like Old Spice.
    "Hahahaha! Oh, Brock, you're so funny! Isn't he something, Porsh?"
    "He sure is...something..." I was mildly disgusted by his presence, but I was probably just missing David. I needed to be open-minded. "But in all seriousness, where WERE you intending on taking us?"
    "We were thinking of going bowling, although it sounds like a tremendous waste of time..." Rupert groaned.
    "Well, actually, I was the one who thought of that. I came up with the whole idea for it. Rupert didn't like it. He had no other ideas. So...." Brock hopped on.
    "Hey, I had some-"
    "No, you didn't Rupy. No, you didn't." Rupert proceeded to bawl in the corner.
    "Okay, so bowling it is?" I asked, a touch sarcastically.
    "Yeah! Let's do it!" Nerissa chimed in, simultaneously consoling Rupert.
    We walked out of her stuffy lavender indulgence scented apartment and into the cold night air. Nerissa glared at me for not being more of a flirt, so I thought I'd make some small-talk.
    "So, you look nice."
    "I know I do. You look amazing, actually. AND you smell like cinnamon! BOOM, baby!" he gestured in a manner that suggested that our exchange of complimenting one another wasn't simply an act of kindness and common sense, it was, in fact, a duel, and apparently, I lost.
    "Yeah, um... is that your car?" No joke, he owned a Ferrari. It wasn't a cheap knock-off like I assumed, it was a real, legit Ferrari. Normally, this would be impressive, but once you see the hillbilly monster-truck tires, the horrible second paint-job done to it, and the disco age dice, it was quite a turn-off.
    "You know it is! I bought it, too. This isn't even a rental. I've had it since sophomore year in high school. I had the money because I get a lot of money, so... you know..." Nerissa leaped for joy. I bent down to gag.
    "It's amazing! OMG, you're hotter than I thought!" Nerissa said supposedly playfully, until she pulled her bedroom face to him. Oh, great.
    "I know, I am, aren't I?"
    "I think I have a new brand of depression." Rupert stood even more hunched over than before.
    "So, you guys get in first. I'm a gentleman, I know..." I reluctantly got into the front seat next to him.
    "So, I see you replaced the leather with cheetah print fur." I commented, not as a compliment, but merely as an obnoxious observation.
    "I chose it. I have great taste, you know. I'm sure far better than you in the print department." I rolled my eyes. Was I supposed to be turned on by this?
    "I'm sure." I stared out the window and ignored him the rest of the drive there.
    "You know, I'm a great driver. I passed the driver's test right away. I never got a ticket or nothing."
    "You mean 'or anything.'" I just had to correct him.
    "I said that. Weren't you listening? I think you need a hearing aid. I aced English all four years of high school. That's my best subject. I think you would've flunked the listening class if they had that."
    "Whatever."
    "We're here. You guys can get out first because I'm a gentleman." we got out, despite the fact that us getting out first didn't determine anyone being better than the other.
    "I despise bowling. Who would pay to fail a sport publicly?" this was the first thing Rupert has said since taking his depression medication. I don't think it was working.
    We all ignored him.
    We walked into the bowling alley, and I observed how brown it was. It looked like it hasn't been remodeled since the early 70's, nor has it been washed.
    "Welcome! Can I get you folks some shoes?" the man behind the counter greeted us.
    "Here, I'll pay, I guess." Rupert pulled out his wallet. Suddenly, I was beginning to respect him. Sort of.
    "No, that won't be necessary. After all, I have WAY more money on me to spare. I wouldn't want you to give up your lunch money for tomorrow, Rupy." Brock flexed his muscles as he reached into his wallet, and no joke, it has a picture of his face on it. With his own autograph. "I'll cover this one. I'm a gentleman."
    "I can see that, sir. Shoe sizes?"
    "Hm...they look like 8's. 8's all around."
    "Um... alright, here you go, sir."
    "'Sir?' You know it." he grabbed the shoes and dumped them on the floor. "You know, I don't need bowling shoes. I wore bowling shoes when I got here. And these ones were signed by Shaquille O'Neill." and sure enough, they were.
    "What?! Shaquille O'Neill doesn't bowl!" I defended, despite the fact I knew zilch about any sport.
    "Not with YOU he doesn't!" sigh...
    We put on our size 8 shoes by force, even though they were about 2 sizes too small for me.
    "Okay! I'm on Rupert's team!" Nerissa announced excitedly.
    "This is the first time I've been chosen first on any team. This has gotta be a jinx." he seeped into his seat.
    "Well, I'm on my team for sure, because I always win these things. It's a curse, I guess!" Brock smirked.
    "Um... okay... who's team am I going to be on?" I asked, peeved.
    "Okay, since you begged... You can be on my team, Portia. But don't take all the credit when we win- it's not all about you!" ........really.......?
    Rupert went up first, despite it all. He actually got a spare, which wasn't too bad. I decided to root for their team.
    "Woo! Good job, Rupert!" I complimented him.
    "I wasn't that good." he said humbly.
    "You better believe it! I can do WAY better than that by a long shot! But that's an adorable first attempt, Rupy. Cute." Brock got up and hit only 4 pins both tries.
    "Hahaha! Not as good as you thought, huh, Brock? Haha!" Nerissa cackled.
    "What do you mean? I got a strike! Didn't you see that? What, are you blind?"
    "Huh? Dude, you didn't even come close to a strike! The pins are still standing! Look!" I pointed. I couldn't believe how ridiculous he was being.
    "Well, someone must have put those back up, because as far as I'm aware, I got a strike. I don't know what YOU guys are smoking..."
    "Oh, cut the crap, Brock. It says on the board we didn't get a strike. Let's just move on." I tried with all my energy not to slap him.
    "Liers and cheaters are often the most successful." Rupert muttered as a single tear rested on his eye-lid. Wee. Everyone's having a blast, huh?
    "Look, never mind. This is just insanity. I'm hungry, okay? Maybe we should just go to the cafe here and get something to eat." I offered.
    "I was going to offer that. I thought of that the moment we got in here, I just was too much of a gentleman to interrupt the fun. So..."
    "Congratulations." we walked over to the cafe and sat down. "Jessie's Girl" by Rick Springfield came on.
    "Oh, I love this song!" Nerissa blurted. She started singing like a doofus. "I wish I had JESSIE'S GIRL!!!"
    "I came up with the idea for that song, actually. I actually know that guy who did that song, so..."
    "*GASP*!!!!!!!" Oh, here we go. "You know RICK SPRINGFIELD?!?!?!?"
    "You know it. I know it. Him, I mean. We're buds. He calls me all the time; he's kind of clingy, to be honest. He learned everything he knows from me!"
    "You're kidding!" the waitress came over.
    "Hi! Are you guys ready to order?"
    "They'll have burgers and fries all around. Thanks." Brock 'so kindly' gestured. He turned to us. "It's okay, guys, I got you covered!" I glared at him.
    "I'm a vegan, but nobody knew that, nor did they care." Rupert mentioned.
    "Okay, um, I'll be back with the burgers, then." the clueless waitress walked away.
    "Listen, buddy, I wanted a salad!!" I steamed. "All I wanted was a salad! You have no right to take that away from me!!" I took a deep breath. "You know what? Fine. I'm sorry, I get a little cheesed off when I'm hungry."
    "I get WAY more cheesed than you do. But I do it with class. I could probably get a gun and shoot it directly at a guy's eyebrow, and I'd get it, because I always have great aim. True story." he sipped at his water nonchalantly. I'm pretty sure I was twitching.
    "My dad was diagnosed with eyebrow cancer! AND HE DIED!!" Rupert bolted out of the restaurant in tears.
    "Um, I think I should go talk to him... I'll be right back." Nerissa ran after him, tripping on her pumps.
    "Look what you did! I didn't even know eyebrow cancer was an actual thing, but honestly that was a little insensitive of you!" his eyes darted around the room. Clearly he couldn't hear me because he was distracted by how attractive his voice sounded in his head.
    "Hey, Portia, I have something I need to tell you now that I'm alone with you..." he took my hands and turned completely in my direction, giving me the most undivided attention all night.
    "Yes...?"
    "Portia, look into my eyes."
    "Uh-huh?" I did as he said. For the first time all night, his eyes almost looked like there was meaning behind them. They were intense and vulnerable, which shocked me. I almost even respected him. His lips parted.
    "...They're beautiful, huh?" he said in hushed tones.
    "Um... yes?" I was confused. This was leading up to something, right?
    "I swear, they're gorgeous! I could look at them all day, if I didn't have to use them to see everything else!" Nope. Still an idiot.
    "Is that all you had to say to me?! Really?!"
    "Yup, that's about it!" he sipped at his water some more as Rupert came in with Nerissa wiping his tears and keeping his mind off of eyebrows.
    "Sorry, we're all good, now! He was just a little emotional, is all!" Nerissa excused him.
    "You know, I've gotta go. I have a...something better...to do." I got up from the booth. Brock got up after me.
    "You know what? I have something MUCH better to do than you! And I need to get to it IMMEDIATELY, so I have to say goodbye to you all because I have a life FAR more important than yours! Good day! Night! Whatever!" and he stormed out of the restaurant. I reluctantly wandered back to the booth with a sigh.
    "He was our ride home."
    "I suppose we can just sit here the rest of our lives. Life has no purpose, anyhow." Rupert continued to depress us.
    "Hey, he left his cell phone!" Nerissa noticed.
    "Oh, yeah!" I picked it up and looked through his contacts.
    "Who are you calling?" Nerissa asked.
    "You'll see..."
    After a half hour, Rick Springfield pulled up at the bowling alley.
   "Hi, I'm here for Portia?" Rick pulled up in his sleek new Lamborghini.
   "That's me!" I hopped into his car. "HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW, BROCK?!" Rick and I rode off into the sunset, "Jessie's Girl" blasting on the radio.
    And kids, that's how I met your father.