Dating is Tricky

It’s not an easy time to be a god. Especially for a trickster god living on 49th street in Hell’s Kitchen, New York City, currently receiving mail under the pseudonym of Mal. Nope, it wasn’t an easy time for me at all.

You might have heard of me by a few other names: Māui, Anansi, Loki. You may have heard stories of princesses, god wars, and superheroes. You may have been a target or an innocent victim of one of my pranks, plots, or practical jokes. For that I’m sort of sorry, but when it boils down to it, that’s just who I am. I can’t help it. So I guess I’m not all that sorry.

But all those identities are played. They’ve been used. People are even naming their children after me. And while it was funny for a while, it gets old real fast.

So I thought up a new name, packed up my former lives into one little suitcase, hopped on a boat (now when I say hopped, I mean truly hopped, stowed-away, snuck aboard), and landed in the greatest city in the world, New York. And how could I resist a neighborhood called Hell’s Kitchen?

I picked the good old US of A because there aren’t that many gods to contend with. Mainly, it’s just the big chief, who’s left me pretty much alone since I was calling him Odin, and then there’s a few immigrant gods like me, but I’ve found them to be more or less accepting of newcomers as long as one doesn’t poach from their flock.

So New York was going to be my reboot, my fresh start. Or so I thought. Turns out there’s a lot of things the saps here worship. And these things aren’t even deities! There’s drugs. Drugs! Drugs used to be used to help people communicate with us, now the humans just take them to get laid. And they’re not even good. Don’t even get me started on their worship of money. Cash, card, crypto. People will lay down their lives in search of the almighty dollar.

And then there are these new things called apps. They’re all on these phones that the folks are using today. Clickclacks, and tictacs, Gramdmagrams, and Grampstagrams. I don’t even know! I can’t get the hang of them. I got a hold of one of these cell phones, the new Orange XL or whatever. Wound up calling China at first. Downloaded a game where I sliced some fruits, and then I crushed some sweets. Things were getting stale. No fun. I was starting to feel like I wasn’t getting anywhere. Like I said, it wasn’t a good time to be a god. 

But then I found the glory hole. That’s how you use that expression right? I think so. The bottomless well of app-like potential: The dating apps.

And that’s how we get to my story. So enough with my exposition. I had just found the ultimate best way of playing with the population. Post a photo of a remarkably handsome human, make some small talk, find out people’s hopes and dreams, and then twist them. Make people promise to meet, and “ghost,” as they say. Plan for our futures and then somehow let them know that their future dreams were crushed because the handsome playboy they’d been fantasizing about died in a helicopter crash.

You might think that’s careless, cruel, cold. But like I said. It’s in my nature! It’s who I am. I’m a trickster god. No ones getting seriously hurt here. Just a little heartbreak. I stopped actually hurting people millenia ago. The other gods don’t really like it so much. Now, I leave the real pain and torture to the big baddies. I’m no big baddy. Just a fun god looking for some laughs. 

Anytways, online conversation is fun and all. But I felt like I was missing out on some real chaos causing potential. I decided it was time to take my relationships to the next level. Time to go on a real meet up.

First thing I had to do was find the right person. At this point, I had a few profiles set up, but I figured authenticity here was key, so I began to edit the one that was closest to who I really was. First name, Mal, last name… aw Hades. Took me a while to even think of a good last name but I finally came up with one. You’re hearing a tale from the original Mal Newcomer. Pleased to meet you! I took a couple “selfies” around parks and museums in the city. I even got a picture with a tiger at the zoo. Hotties will eat that one up. It’s not easy to take a photo when you have no one to take it with, but I managed. I also duped some tourists into thinking that I was a Hollywood celebrity so I could get a group photo. I read online you really need at least one group photo so you don’t look like a loner.

Filled out my profile as earnestly as a god can. Height: 5’10”, weight: 175lbs, persuasion: “Come one come all.” I said I was interested in reading, and travelling, and that I liked to laugh. The only thing I said that I lied about was looking for: “long term,” and I threw in “friendship” as well. What a laugh, who would look for friendship?

Then I got to swiping. Now, this is when things got a little peculiar. Something in the matrix must have been broken, because on all my fake profiles, I was getting matches left and right, but on this new one, the lake was dry. I’d get the occasional match but then no responses. I would try a variation of “hey” “hi” and “hello” for a few days before I gave up. Must have been a deactivated accounts or something.

I was getting a little frustrated for a while when finally I struck gold. This cutie with a booty named Andy. She was a beautiful human specimen and her profile screamed “desperate.” She had a picture with penguins and another with a group of people she clearly wasn’t very close with. Top that off with a slew of lonely looking photos and vague interests and I had found my match. I swiped to the right and immediately received a “Match!” They must have fixed that glitch in the system.

Conversation was slow at first. I think we found ways to say hello three times before we got into anything serious. We talked for a few days. She, like me, had done some world travelling and we talked about the places we had been. She’d been to Greece, India, and had even spent some time in Polynesia as well. She told me that she posted the photo with the penguin because she read somewhere that a picture with animals helps boost a profile. 

Now, as a god, I don’t really have any need to sleep, but with all the shenanigans I pull  I’m normally am a big fan of catching a few winks, but I noticed that I often lost track of time talking to Andy. She was funny, and sarcastic, and she also seemed to have no problem staying up late. She would be perfect for my first real life meet up. She had no idea the inconveniences coming her way. But before I had a chance to ask her to meet up, she asked me! I played it cool but said yes after a few back and forths and we made plans to meet up at a Thai restaurant near my place in Hell’s Kitchen around 7:30 the next night. I think she lives somewhere around here too, but she wasn’t ready to tell me where yet.

I arrived before her, which was frustrating because I showed up at 7:35. I had wanted her to sweat a little before I got there.

Andy strolled in at 7:45, and I’ll be completely honest, she looked better than her photos. She had long dark hair that fell far past her shoulders, and seductively shocking blue eyes that I could see from my seat. So could everyone else. Men and women visibly shifted in their seats to get a look at her. She walked confidently past the host and made her way towards me. It felt good to know she was coming to my table, that everyone in the restaurant would see her sit with me.

Except she didn’t. She sat down at a table with a handsome gentleman whose date had recently gone to the restroom. He looked flummoxed, confused, bewildered.

“Andy,” I piped up from where I sat a few tables down. I waved awkwardly. She laughed, apologized to the man, took a piece of the edamame at the stranger’s table and sauntered over to my table.

“Sorry” she said as she pulled out her chair and sat down. She put the edamame husk on her napkin. “You look a little bit different from your photos. Are you a little shorter than you said?” 

I sat up straighter and tried to laugh it off. “No, no, definitely 5’10 here.” I remember thinking it was an odd start to the date, but I’d get control over the situation shortly. I had many sneaky plans in the works.

We chatted a little bit about where we grew up. I told her I was born in the midwest of the United States and worked down on Wall Street, which was all a lie, of course, but an appealing lie to a single woman. She told me she was born on the west coast in California, and moved here to work in marketing.

It turns out she did live nearby, but I didn’t find out from our conversation. The waiter approached our table and said “Hello Miss Andy, it’s good to see you again. Have you been well?” They exchanged a few pleasantries, and I learned his name was Chet. Chet took her drink order: a vodka soda. Then he turned to me, “Lucky you, sir, to be out with our favorite customer, Miss Andy, she comes in often, with the most beautiful friends.” Something about the way he said that implied I was not going to be counted among those beautiful friends later. I ordered a glass of cabernet. 

“So,” said Andy “Mal, tell me everything. I want to know your whole life, the entire experience, the meaning behind you.” She said it with such genuine excitement, I couldn’t help but believe her. I fed her many lies about growing up on a farm, plowing fields, raising animals. All lies, again, but what else could I tell her? I was born before the Bible was written? It felt uncomfortable to be lying to her.

Our drinks arrived and exactly as I had expected, I saw no bubbles in her glass. I had magicked the evening so that her second inconvenience, (my first having had fallen through by her arriving after me) was that every drink she ordered would be flat. And as expected, her drink lacked that streamline of bubbles rising from the bottom to the top of her vodka soda. My wine was placed in front of me.

“Thank the gods for this,” she said as she took a sip of her drink, ignoring the straw and going directly for the rim of the glass. “It’s been a long day.”

“How is it?” I asked as I brought my wine glass to my mouth.

“Delicious,” she said, taking the lime off the rim of the glass and squeezing into the bubbling drink.

That’s right, folks. I said bubbling. It must have been some trick of the light when I looked at the glass before because now there they were, hundreds of little carbonated bubbles climbing from the bottom of her glass to the top.

And then my wine hit my lips. I swished to make sure that I wasn’t wrong but I was right. It took every muscle in my mouth and throat not to spit the red grape juice back into the glass. The grapes had clearly soured and the wine tasted terrible. Obviously some dunderhead had left the bottle uncorked behind the bar for too long.

“Everything okay?” Andy asked as she took another sip from her vodka soda.

“Fine, yeah, great. I just haven’t had a good glass of wine in awhile.”

She smiled, drawing little squiggles in the condensation on her glass. “This place does have a great selection.”

After that little hiccup we talked a little more, and the conversation flowed pretty freely. I struggled through my wine, and continued to sip it. She laughed often and I knew I’d have her eating out of the palm of my hand before dessert.

Our meals finally arrived, she had ordered a spicy shrimp dish that I had magicked a tad so the shrimp would have turned and should have smelled terrible, but when it arrived the shrimp was a beautiful orange and smelled delicious. Then Chet turned to put my dish in front of me, and I immediately saw an issue.

“Excuse me, not to be a pain, but I had ordered Chicken Pad See Eiw. All I see here are vegetables,” I said. How’s a growing god supposed to get lean and mean without their meat?

“I’m so sorry, I could have sworn you ordered the vegetarian option,” the waiter said and looked at Andy with a confused face.

“No, it’s not your fault Chet, I remember him saying vegetarian as well,” said Andy. I felt my face drop. Chet offered to have my plate brought back and to throw some chicken on there free of charge but I told him it was fine, I’d make it work.

After he left, I was at a loss for words. I couldn’t even look at Andy, I was embarrassed, uncomfortable and positively offended that she took the waiter’s side. We ate in silence for a while. I took a sip of my wine, forgetting how offensive it was and made a visible face.

At that point, Andy burst out laughing. “Oh gods! I can’t. This is the funniest, the best, the most inconvenient… I’m sorry Mal, it’s just that I haven’t laughed this hard in a long while,” she said with tears, actual tears, welling in the corners of her eyes.

That was it. All of my plans to toy with this beautiful woman had failed, and now I looked like a fool, and she had contributed to it. “It’s not that funny, Andy, not really. Everything is going wrong. You were late to our date, and didn’t even recognize me. My wine, if you really must know tastes awful. And my meal is completely messed up. And you’re laughing at me! It’s cruel. I’ve been here for a while now, and this is the first night I’ve really even had a chance of making a new friend and you’re here laughing at me.”

Andy put down her drink. She reached across the table and put her hands on mine. I almost pulled away, but she her touch was warm and calming. “I know, Mal, I’m sorry. I can’t help it. It’s who I am. It’s in my nature.” 

And then it hit me. 

It all made sense.

“You! You trickster!” I tested the waters without actually blowing anything.

“You may have heard of me: Mohini, Atë, Kuku Lau are a few of my names. I like Andy now though. My old names are for an old world. And Andy just sells better on these dating apps,” said Andy as she leaned back in her chair. Her eyes appeared less seductive now, just playful.

 I sat completely still for a moment, letting it all sink in. I had heard a few of these names many times, sometimes the two of us had actually been confused in the old stories, being credited for each other’s works, but we had never crossed paths before. This was new information for me. And for a moment I was shocked. And then I felt my face break into a large grin and I began laughing uncontrollably. I threw my second hand over hers.

“You! You ruined my whole plan for you, and I couldn’t be more happy! The drinks! And the food! And you were late! You ass! Wonderful! Wonderfully played! Bravo. Did you know who I was?” I asked, salty god-tears rolling down my cheeks.

“Not at first. To be honest, you need to work on your profile. It’s awful. I thought you were just some tool living in Hell’s Kitchen. This is my normal spot to take tools from Hell’s Kitchen. It’s a great gig. But when I got here I could feel your magicks already in place. I didn’t even need to work as hard as I normally do. You had set everything up, I just needed to turn it back on you. Impressive work though,” she said.

Our hands now in the middle of the table, we actually looked like we were on a real date. Chet came over to clear our plates and asked if we’d like any dessert. I looked to Andy and said “I’m game if you are. No tricks though.”

She smiled. “I can’t make any promises.”

So there you have it. I said it wasn’t an easy time in New York for a trickster god. But I didn’t say it was a bad time, and I definitely didn’t say anything about it being difficult at all for two trickster gods. So in a way, who’s the real rube here? Andy and I are both ancient, we’ll spend some time together, and then probably go our separate ways, and that’s fine with me. But the company is nice for now, and I had forgotten how nice it was to have a friend.