The cyber café where
Mark tended to end up, evening after evening, served a mediocre Napa
white and superb T1
internet access.
Mark had a laptop and a dial-up connection in his apartment, but he preferred the faster online connection and the false sense of camaraderie at the café. In truth, no one ever spoke to anyone else there--even the barrista made the drinks in church-like silence. Each patron sipped at his computer booth, lost in a cyberworld of their own creation.
There was a bright new banner, announcing an online dating service. “30 Days, Guaranteed or Your Money Back!” it boasted. What the
hell, thought
Mark, who was an optimist despite some notable dating disasters in the past. There was that
gal from Medway, the one with the three cats and the bad case of…
Mark shuddered and tried to wipe that image out of his mind. What the
hell, thought
Mark, and signed on.
Night after night, he faced a woman across a table, and night after night the same thoughts were exchanged: He’s better than I thought. She’s worse than I imagined. I could manage him, if he’d get a better job. Why can’t there be a woman who’s smart and doesn’t look and smell like exactly a pit bull, thought
Mark. There has to be one. Somewhere.
Then he met Belkis. “I changed my name from Magda, “ she confided. Magda, he thought, is a
pretty exotic name already. What about Magda needed changing? He didn’t ask.
Belkis was smart, all right, and beautiful, in a dark and somewhat masculinely sinister way. Her figure was taut, her brows somewhat low, and her teeth looked
white, but sharp. She wore red lipstick that left a
mark on the espresso cups like a vampire bite.
Starting over wasn’t so bad,
Mark thought. He didn't like his old job, his cramped apartment or that town anyway. Changing your identity could even be exciting, if you looked at it in the right light. He hadn’t heard from Belkis or her lawyers in over a month. Too bad he forgot to change his cell phone number. Belkis was a patient woman.
