600 Hours of Edward

Don’t get me wrong, I can find ten that I like, but I can’t necessarily find ones that I think someone else would like. Matthew Sweet can be a real downer.
    I end up choosing six:
“I’ve Been Waiting,”
Girlfriend
“Devil with the Green Eyes,”
Altered Beast
“Superdeformed,”
Son of Altered Beast
“Come to California,”
Blue Sky on Mars
“I Should Never Have Let You Know,”
In Reverse
“Wait,”
Kimi Ga Suki
(the Japanese album)
    It’s a fine collection of songs. I think if Joy for some reason decides that she doesn’t want it, my disappointment will be soothed by the fact that I will get to keep it.
    – • –
    At 10:00 a.m., I walk in the door at the Great Clips haircutters on Grand Avenue. There is no line. Most of the rest of Billings is at work.
    I have had this stylist before. Her name is Heather, and she is very pretty, with big blue eyes and long, blonde, straight hair. One thing about her, though, is that her attitude varies wildly. She recognizes me and smiles and invites me back to the chair.
    “The usual?” she asks.
    “Yes.”
    This is an easy job for Heather. My hair does not need styling. It needs to be cut, and she quickly does it.
    “What’re you up to today?” she asks.
    “I have an online date.”
    “Cool.”
    “Yes.”
    “I haven’t had a date in for-ev-er,” she says, drawing out the syllables, and then she starts telling me about what a disaster herlast date was and how she swore off men but can’t stay away for long and that she wishes me luck and just be a gentleman and it will all work out just fine.
    Heather is fun to listen to when she feels good, like she does today.
    – • –
    On the way back home, I stop at the Albertsons on Grand and Thirteenth Street W. and buy a single red rose from the floral department. The nice lady who works there wraps it loosely in a cellophane cone and pops a small container of water onto the stem to keep it looking fresh.
    I am nearly ready for my 7:00 p.m. date.
    It is 10:57 a.m.
    – • –
    While it’s true that I am feeling a bit overeager—an odd sensation for me—it’s also true that I do have some other chores.
    For one thing, I have to eat lunch. I will not have much, in case Joy wants to eat tonight at the wine bar downtown. It’s not just a wine bar. I have been reading up on it, and apparently, the place—it is called Bin 119—has very good food, too, including something called lobster mac ’n’ cheese. I don’t know if that sounds good or not. I don’t have seafood very often—only at my monthly dinner with my parents, and not at every one of those. I’ve had lots of mac ’n’ cheese; it was one of my favorites when I was a child, with the box of noodles and the powdered cheese that would turn gooey when mixed with butter and milk. I do not think that kind of mac ’n’ cheesewould taste good with lobster. But that’s just my opinion. It’s not necessarily a fact.
    I have spaghetti for lunch.
    – • –
    At 5:00 p.m., I start trying on all of my new clothes again. I have two purposes. First, I need to ensure, again, that none of it is defective. If there’s a zipper that doesn’t work or a button hanging by a thread or a small tear at the corner of a pocket, now is the time to know. Second, I need to choose what I’m wearing tonight.
    In the end, I choose the George Foreman pinstripe suit and the white shirt with blue stripes, with no tie. I think it looks dressy, yet easygoing. I also think I look too round and puffy. This is not something I thought about before I decided to look for dates on the Internet, but now that I am an active Internet dater, I may have to incorporate some belly control into my daily routine. I could start doing sit-ups. That would give me something new to count and whip my stomach into shape. The thought of this makes me happy.
    It is 5:37 p.m. and I am dressed for my 7:00 p.m. Internet date with Joy from Broadview.
    – • –
    After putting the mix CD in my front coat pocket—and then checking twice more to make sure it is there—I decide to do some last-minute brushing up on Internet dating, just so I know as much as possible about what will happen tonight.
    On one website, I find an article called “Everything You Need to Know Before You Go on That Online Date.” At first, I am notinterested, as the article plainly says that it is written for women over forty, but then I remember that Joy is forty-one and I think that it might benefit me to consider