the other qualifications.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t ever say my age on my show, but I’m
twenty-nine,” he whispers.
“Holy fuck! You’re practically
middle-aged.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I’m an old man, McKenna.
But keep that between us. I want the kids to think I’m cool.
Besides, somehow, a viewer updated my Wikipedia page and it says
I’m twenty-three, and I never got around to correcting it.”
“Well, I am so glad we resolved this issue.
You are clearly not in contention.”
He reaches out and briefly touches my arm.
Then he looks me straight in the eyes and says, “It’s a shame.”
He’s serious. At least, I think he’s
serious. My breath catches, and my heart skips, and I want to go
back in time and rewrite the age rules for my Trophy Husband game.
Let them be thirty or younger, even though that makes no logical
sense. But hearts aren’t logical and my heart wants Chris to play.
I don’t know what to say next though, so I return to the one topic
I can handle — business. Besides, I made a pact with my
girlfriends. They’ve had my back, and I can’t let them down. This
isn’t about me. This is about the point, the pursuit, the game.
“So, what can I do for you? You’re helping
me and I don’t want this to be a one-way street. I’ve got to be
able to do something to help you out, though truth be told, most of
my viewers are young women and I’m not sure how many are
gamers.”
“You play,” he points out. I like that he’s
willing to change directions so quickly, that he doesn’t keep
harping on some philosophical question, or practical question,
neither of which I have answers to.
“Well, yes, but I’m just a casual fan.”
“Exactly. And a lot of young women are. In
fact, the female gamer is one of the fastest growing categories in
the whole video game business,” Chris says excitedly. “I’m actually
starting a new show in a couple months targeted for women who are
sort of the casual online gamers, but new to the console games. And
I need to get the word out, promote my new show.”
I nod. “So we do a cross-promo, maybe?
You’re thinking some of those girls who watch my show might want to
try a little Guitar Hero?”
“Guitar Hero? Did you just say Guitar Hero?
That game isn’t even made anymore.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize that,” I say, feeling
stupid. “Someone gave it to me a few years ago. It looked kind of
fun. I think I played it once, but I haven’t been able to find my
copy since.”
“Hey. I didn’t mean to sound like a gamer
snob.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t.”
“I mean, it’s a totally awesome game. You
should definitely play it more. I was just saying I think chicks
are getting into other games too. The shooter games, the sports
games, even just trivia games. They’re all taking off into the
mainstream, especially with hot young chicks, like yourself.”
It’s my turn to blush now.
He said it again. Hot chick.
“Oh look,” he points at me. “Now you’re cute
blushing.”
“I guess we’re just a bunch of cute
blushers.”
He smiles again, and then places his palm on
my wrist, and that single gesture of his hand on my skin melts me.
And while there’s a part of me that wants the kitchen table fantasy
with Chris, I also want the other side with him too. The part where
I let him into my heart and my soul, the part where we get to know
each other. Because right now, I want to lean forward and taste his
sweet lips. I want to hop into his lap and wrap my arms around his
neck and smother him in kisses. I haven’t felt this way in years. I
don’t even know what to do with all this wanting. I want to spend
the day with him. To wander around the city, and stop in shops, and
grab a coffee, and talk, and get to know him, and ignore my phone
because he’s so much more interesting than any text message could
ever be. I look at his hand, resting on me, and it’s almost enough
for me to throw the whole Trophy Husband quest
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t ever say my age on my show, but I’m
twenty-nine,” he whispers.
“Holy fuck! You’re practically
middle-aged.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I’m an old man, McKenna.
But keep that between us. I want the kids to think I’m cool.
Besides, somehow, a viewer updated my Wikipedia page and it says
I’m twenty-three, and I never got around to correcting it.”
“Well, I am so glad we resolved this issue.
You are clearly not in contention.”
He reaches out and briefly touches my arm.
Then he looks me straight in the eyes and says, “It’s a shame.”
He’s serious. At least, I think he’s
serious. My breath catches, and my heart skips, and I want to go
back in time and rewrite the age rules for my Trophy Husband game.
Let them be thirty or younger, even though that makes no logical
sense. But hearts aren’t logical and my heart wants Chris to play.
I don’t know what to say next though, so I return to the one topic
I can handle — business. Besides, I made a pact with my
girlfriends. They’ve had my back, and I can’t let them down. This
isn’t about me. This is about the point, the pursuit, the game.
“So, what can I do for you? You’re helping
me and I don’t want this to be a one-way street. I’ve got to be
able to do something to help you out, though truth be told, most of
my viewers are young women and I’m not sure how many are
gamers.”
“You play,” he points out. I like that he’s
willing to change directions so quickly, that he doesn’t keep
harping on some philosophical question, or practical question,
neither of which I have answers to.
“Well, yes, but I’m just a casual fan.”
“Exactly. And a lot of young women are. In
fact, the female gamer is one of the fastest growing categories in
the whole video game business,” Chris says excitedly. “I’m actually
starting a new show in a couple months targeted for women who are
sort of the casual online gamers, but new to the console games. And
I need to get the word out, promote my new show.”
I nod. “So we do a cross-promo, maybe?
You’re thinking some of those girls who watch my show might want to
try a little Guitar Hero?”
“Guitar Hero? Did you just say Guitar Hero?
That game isn’t even made anymore.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize that,” I say, feeling
stupid. “Someone gave it to me a few years ago. It looked kind of
fun. I think I played it once, but I haven’t been able to find my
copy since.”
“Hey. I didn’t mean to sound like a gamer
snob.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t.”
“I mean, it’s a totally awesome game. You
should definitely play it more. I was just saying I think chicks
are getting into other games too. The shooter games, the sports
games, even just trivia games. They’re all taking off into the
mainstream, especially with hot young chicks, like yourself.”
It’s my turn to blush now.
He said it again. Hot chick.
“Oh look,” he points at me. “Now you’re cute
blushing.”
“I guess we’re just a bunch of cute
blushers.”
He smiles again, and then places his palm on
my wrist, and that single gesture of his hand on my skin melts me.
And while there’s a part of me that wants the kitchen table fantasy
with Chris, I also want the other side with him too. The part where
I let him into my heart and my soul, the part where we get to know
each other. Because right now, I want to lean forward and taste his
sweet lips. I want to hop into his lap and wrap my arms around his
neck and smother him in kisses. I haven’t felt this way in years. I
don’t even know what to do with all this wanting. I want to spend
the day with him. To wander around the city, and stop in shops, and
grab a coffee, and talk, and get to know him, and ignore my phone
because he’s so much more interesting than any text message could
ever be. I look at his hand, resting on me, and it’s almost enough
for me to throw the whole Trophy Husband quest
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