Jump to new as of October 28, 2001
Jump to new as of November 6, 2001
Elizabeth voice over: six year ago a young, idealistic writer -- me -- ventured from her comfortable middle-American life into the City. Manhattan. Where everything happens. I was there of a commission to write a column for a small independent, artsy paper, the New York World, and my column was entitled "Singles and the City". I had the best resources in the world -- my friends.
Cut to early morning conversation between the four friends at their favorite downtown coffee shop.
"Emma, its so obvious that he's attracted to you," Lydia said with her experienced laugh. "He just doesn't know it yet. He's a classic man. They're always in denial." Lydia smiled her slightly wicked smile and popped a bite of orange scone into her mouth. It was a bit unusual to see her up and about before nine in the morning, but Emma's desperate phone calls of the night before had gotten her there. When there was a problem with relationships, she was always there to put in her two cents. The problem was, Lydia never had relationships, so her two cents wasn't worth much.
"That's not always true," Elinor put in ominously. "A friend of mine thought the same thing about one of her co-workers, but then, lo and behold, a year later he was married to someone else. She was heartbroken, lost her job, and had to move back to Milwaukee to live with her mother" You could always count on Elinor to bring reality into light. She was a hardworking realist who never saw the best in people (especially men) until she knew them deep down. Unfortunately, she never let them get that close to her.
Poor Emma looked a little shocked, but tossed her shiny brown hair and replied "Thanks, Elinor, your stories are always so uplifting," with a little giggle. "I prefer to see the best in people... especially men." How true, how true.
Elizabeth V.O.: Classic girls. Lydia the um... well, you know what Lydia is... Elinor the cynic, and Emma the ever-hopeful romantic. I am the, well, what am I?
Lydia cut into my inner monologue right then. "Liz, you're the expert (so that's what I am!), what's your opinion on George and Emma?"
Emma looked expectantly at me, while Elinor stirred the last of her cappuccino, looking bored.
V.O. The truth is, I really didn't know what to think of Emma's boss, the owner of the gallery she managed. George Knightley was a classic New York enigma. Rich, handsome, suave and complicated. He was always telling Emma what to do and how to do it, but never failed to do so without a flirtatious tone, if you know what I mean. It sounded to me like Emma had a real dilemma: did she respond to George's advances, if she was sure that's what they were, or did she ignore them?
I looked at Emma's hopeful face, and didn't have the heart to share my cynical view as well. "Gee, I don't know Em, why don't you just wait it out?"
She seemed please with my answer, and settled back in her chair with a sip of her caramel macchiato.
"Sorry to ruin this LATEST delightful little chat about men, but I have to run. Am I the only one who has a regular job around here? The rest of you just seem to sit around all day and discuss your sex lives, or in my case, lack of!" Elinor sounded like she had woken up -- alone -- on the wrong side of the bed this morning.
"Elinor, what's wrong?" I pleaded.
No reply, just a frantic scramble to put on her coat, and then Elinor Dashwood, the sole remaining single person at her lawfirm, made a rush for the door.
She did have a point though... did all of our conversations really revolve around the men in our lives?
Later that Day--
Elizabeth Voice Over: As I walked the streets of Manhattan in my $400 shoes, past 14th Street and up 2nd Avenue, I thought about what Elinor had said. Did all of our conversations really have to do with men and sex? Suddenly I was overcome with the urge to discover the inner meaning of singletondom. Were we all just trying hard (sometimes too hard?) to find The One? Then it hit me. Or, rather, brushed past me. The most perfect specimen of the male homo sapiens I had ever laid eyes on. There was something so familiar in his glance as he looked over his shoulder at me as he passed by. It entranced me, and I lost myself in his dark chocolate eyes. Uh oh.
This "Mr. Big" had me completely won over. I was in a dreamy state of shock all the way from 16th Street to my apartment on 72nd and 3rd Avenue. And it had taken me nearly 2 hours!
I got home -- after breaking the heel of my brand-new shoes -- and called an emergency conference that night with the girls.
"Well of course he looked familiar," Lydia started, after I had told them the whole story over a friendly game of poker. "You probably slept with him at some point. I mean, honey, you have been in Manhattan for over six years. That's a lot of nights." Sometimes Lydia can be so blunt. And a little too much for my taste -- and especially for Emma's. She looked positively shocked.
"Hey, wait a minute! Haven't you considered that maybe Liz has a special connection with this guy? I mean, he could be her soulmate. He could be The One." Emma replied, a little hurt by Lydia's suggestion. However, she didn't let it bother her for long. Soon Emma settled back in her chair and let her mind be taken over by fond thoughts of her own possible One, Mr. George Knightley.
"Oh please." Leave it to Elinor to bring cynicism and reality to any situation. "Now, really Liz, you found a guy you saw on the street attractive. What's so unusual about that? I see plenty of attractive men every day. Maybe you had a special reaction to this guy, but come on! Love at first sight? Finding your soulmate on the sidewalk in Stuyvesant Park is really, really not going to happen, I'm so sorry to say. New York in the new millennium is not a fantasy world."
"Elinor, I would really like to know who died and made you the preacher of doom? What is wrong with you? I don't understand your bad attitude towards Emma's, and now my love lives. Is it the wrong time of the month again? I seem to recollect that that time was actually last week... so what is it?!"
V.O.: By this time I was completely exasperated with my friends. Emma was a good listener, but at the moment any mention of Mr. Big lapsed her into a coma of dreams about her own Mr., but that was normal for our sweet little romantic Emma. Lydia was able to pass of the possibility of true love, as being just plain true lust, and that was normal for her as well.
But not Elinor. I could usually count on Elinor to give me a real, honest opinion. However, she usually delivered her verdicts with less sarcasm and a bit more compassion. What was troubling her?
V.O. continued: After losing several hands of poker I decided it was time to send the girls home, and to hit the sack. However, sleep didn't come easily to me, since I was too busy thinking about my brief encounter with Mr. Big. What was it about this man that drove me wild? And why couldn't I bring myself to push back the neuroses in my brain that were telling me he was all wrong for me. Could initial attraction really be the first link to true love? And how would I know true love when it hit me. Had I ever really been in love before?
"Lizzy, you have got to stop drinking so much coffee. Get some sleep!" I said to myself as I pushed my neuroses to the back of my head, turned over once again under my 500-count Egyptian cotton sheets and finally fell into dreamland.
V.O. Meanwhile, Elinor was struggling with her own inner demon: her meddling cousin, Mrs. Patricia Jennings. Patty Jennings believed that there was something dreadfully wrong with all single women over the age of thirty, and, since Elinor had passed that age some three or four years ago, it was her sole duty to get her married as soon as possible.
This meant, of course, that Elinor had to endure numerous blind dates with men who held such fascinating positions as podiatrist, shoe maker, and even an undertaker Cousin Patty had met while attending an old friend's funeral. She was completely fed up, and vowed repeatedly to never, ever, go on a date again, especially one set up by a relative. She was about to swear off men forever, but then thought about the impracticality of such an action. Oh well, she could at least refuse to go on any more of Cousin Patty's dates.
"Mr. Knightley, I seem to be having some trouble with this latest collection of artists." Emma began as she walked into her boss' office the next morning. She was cheerful and optimistic, and hoped that maybe, just maybe, today would be the first day Mr. Knightley would *really* notice her. She was so sure he was going to look up from his desk one day and say something incredibly romantic...like...
"Hang on Emma. I have some serious business to conduct with my latest donor. You'll have to come back later." Mr. Knightley replied impatiently without looking up from his stack of files.
Then again, maybe today wasn't her day after all.
Emma, determined not to let this latest incident get her down, decided that it wouldn't be too unethical to seek some retail therapy, so she went for a walk up Fifth Avenue.
V.O.: Lydia was in the midst of her own therapy at that moment, although her therapy was of a much racier kind than Emma's. She had decided, that, since she had been having a bit of a dry spell where men were concerned, she would try and liven up her life... with a massage at the hottest new aromatheraphy spa in the city. Fortunately for her, this massage was given by a very handsome man in his mid-twenties. Whom Lydia promptly tried to seduce. However, this young *stud* was not willing to be seduced by such a silly and -- gasp -- older woman like Lydia, and she was forced to leave the spa with nothing more than additional tension in her neck from craning it trying to look at her masseur during the massage.
She was not fazed, however, and decided that maybe a drink was in order. So she walked into the nearest bar -- even though it was only two in the afternoon -- and ordered a Cosmopolitan. After a third, she gave her number to the barely-legal bartender and told him to call her that night. He did, and Lydia's need for some attention was satisfied that night when he got off work.
V.O.: As for me, well, it was time for me to intervene with poor Elinor's inner demons... aka Cousin Patty. I gave her a call as I walked to the grocery that evening. I convinced her to come over for a home-microwaved meal and a couple of chick-flicks. After much coaxing she agreed.
"I just don't get it," she began, almost the minute she entered my apartment. "I'm an attractive woman, but, just because I don't devote my entire life to the relentless pursuit of a soul-mate, I'm looked over by all the good members of the species, and have to make-do with all of Cousin Patty's wacko friends. Do you know she set up a date with a garbage man tonight?" (please forgive me, I have nothing against garbage men, I am very grateful to them for doing their job so well!)
"Honey, you have to tell her, plain, that you don't want to go out with anymore of her, uh, suggestions." I said as soothingly as I could.
"You try telling that to a cousin who has always considered it her duty to take care of you, after she got you a bandaid after you fell down at Gram's at Thanksgiving when you were four!" was her sarcastic reply.
V.O.: I had nothing to say to that, so we just settled back to watch "An Affair to Remember" with our delicious Lean Cuisines.
V.O.: That night my mind was again consumed with thoughts of Mr. Big. Just who was this guy who seemed to make me melt with just one glance?
Elizabeth Voice Over: I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and in control. I was not going to let Mr. Big consume my life, and I certainly didn't care about him. I set off for the gym in the most determined manner ever.
I met Lydia there, and she and I got our mats for Yoga. The instructor was one of Lydia's many current conquests, and she was never able to meditate her way through an entire class without making several um, lewd comments about either the names of positions or the shapes of the positions themselves. Her absolute favorite was the "downward dog." She got a kick out of that ever single time she repeated it. It just made my arms hurt.
Once Yoga was finished, and Lydia had run off with the slightly-better-than-Richard Simmons look-alike instructor for another dose of "downward dogs," I knew I had to get home and finish my column. Of course, first I had to stop for a capuccino.
I sought my favorite table in my favorite Starbucks, and settled down with my tall-skim-decaf-caramel-cappucino when it happened. HE walked in.
He saw me, and...
"Well hello," he said, walking over and pulling up a seat next to me. "Please, let me introduce myself. I'm George Wickham, and you're absolutely stunning."
"T-thank you," I managed to stutter out. This Mr. Big was even better close-up. "I'm Elizabeth Bennet-Bradshaw. Its very nice to meet you, Mr. Bi-uh-Wickham."
V.O. IDIOT! Why can't I keep my cool around this man?!
"Likewise. Now, what does a beautiful lady like you do for a living? You must be a model..."
"Oh no," I laughed, "I'm a writer. I write a column, for the New York World. Its called 'Singles in the City.'"
"You're single, then," Mr. Big said, his grin getting even bigger.
"At the moment," I teased. Of course, I would be whatever this man wanted me to be! Single, involved, engaged, married...
"Well then, Ms. Single, how about having dinner with me Tuesday night. I know a great place...?" he queried.
"Ahh, you know, Tuesdays aren't really good for me... I have a sort of standing date with some friends. Sorry," I said, shrugging, because I really am sorry, but I just can't abandon my girlfriends, no matter how delicious Mr. Big is!
"Well, how about tonight? I have no fixed plans, but I can't promise anything fancy, since I haven't made advanced reservations." He seemed desperate to go out with me! YES!!!!
"Tonight sounds wonderful. I don't have any plans either. Fancy isn't important to me, I try and stay pretty down to earth."
"Must be tough, since you're such an angel." He grinned again and reached over to tuck an escaped curl behind my ear.
V.O.: I know its a line, but such a line has never sounded so good and sincere to me.
"Mmm, thank you," I managed to murmur.
"I'd love to get to know you better now, angel. Shall we have a chat now? I find you just fascinating." Was it just my infatuation, or was he oozing charm? "I have many stories you could use in your column. I know all about being 'Single in the City.'"
V.O.: I hated to do it, but I just knew that I couldn't stay in the Starbucks and talk to him, no matter how much I wanted to!
"I'd better get going. I have to finish my column before tonight."
"All right angel, I'll pick you up at eight." He and I got up, and I started to leave, when I realized something.
"Oh! It might help if you had my address. How stupid of me!" I fumble for a pen, when he gently took my hand, and said,
"Angel, I was planning on taking you home, just so I could find that out."
V.O.: We caught a cab and he held my hand as we rode up to my apartment on 72nd. He gave me another grin, before caressing my cheek once more, and whispering "see you at eight."
My body just tingled with excitement. Column-scholumn. I need to have another emergency meeting with the girls. This time it was my situation, and not Emma's problems with Knightley, Elinor's self-esteem issues, or Lydia's antics! I have a date with Mr. Big! (I guess I'll have to keep calling him that, it suits him so well. Except to his face of course. And what a handsome face it is....)
V.O.: The girls, of course, had varying opinions on this new development.
"Wait a second," Elinor interjected, the second I was finished spilling my story. "He just came up to you in Starbucks and asked you out, without even much of a conversation. My advice is stay away from him! You don't know a thing about him. He could be a psychotic axe-murdered." You could always count on Elinor for the WORST of all possible situations.
"Well, I think its sexy and h***," Lydia said in her usual way. "He's obviously very attracted to you, and from what you said, he sounds very attractive. If you decide you don't want him, turn him over to me for a little while!"
"I think its romantic." ahh, Emma! Ever hopeful Emma! "I mean, he comes up to you in a cafe, and falls in love at first sight (or second sight, in this case, actually). He sounds so sweet, and look, he made the first move!" She sat back in her chair and brooded a little more about her lack of success with Mr. Knightley.
"So you guys think I'm doing the right thing by going out with him tonight?"
"Oh, absolutely," Lydia broke in. "He sounds completely dreamy, and I think you'd be a fool if you let a little hasty dating stand in your way. All I have to say is good luck and have fun!"
"Yes, go for it. Just remember the rules of the first date, Lizzy, and have a great time!" said Emma happily, with a dreamy grin, remembering that tonight she had a dinner meeting with Knightley.
"Oh fine. I guess I'm outnumbered by Sleazy and Sappy here -- Outraged cries from Lydia and Emma -- so what can I say other than have a great time, call me when you get in, etc, etc."
"Thanks Eli," I said, giving her arm a little friendly squeeze. "You'll be the first person I call tonight."
V.O.: With that, I started back home, to finish my column and prep for my date with Mr. Big!
Elizabeth Voice Over: Although I had just had an "emergency meeting" with Elinor, Emma, and Lydia, since none of them had any lives of their own at the time, they thought it would be fun to come over and live vicariously through my date with Mr. Big.
"Don't forget," Emma began, with a big bite of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookie in her mouth, "No kissing on a first date! He'll only get the wrong idea."
"Honey, with a smile like his and a dress like the one she has on, Lizzy's gonna go a lot farther than kissing --" Lydia replied.
"Excuse me, Lydia, don't talk about me like I'm not even here! Should I change the dress...?" I said indignantly, and almost retreated back to my bedroom to change out of my slightly-naked dress. It was clingy and filmy and backless and a deep wine color... not the sort of dress I would normally wear, but I had it in my closet for a special occasion, and it seemed to me that this date with Mr. Big was special occasion enough!
"No, don't change the dress. Well," Emma said again, wrinkling her nose, "Just keep your coat on a lot."
V.O. We all laughed. Emma's answers to little dilemmas like that are always classic anecdotes.
"The dress is wonderful Lizzy, just slightly-naked enough. He'll love it, and now it's just up to you to make sure that it stays on all night, forget about the coat!" was Elinor's flippant response.
V.O. Just then the doorbell rang, and all three girls bustled into my kitchen where I can only imagine they spent the rest of the evening, enjoying Emma's cookies and some cappuccino from my new, fancy, cappuccino maker.
I went to the door...
"Wow." was the first, definitive word out of Mr. Big's mouth. Then he reached behind his back, pulled out a single white rose, then reached his other hand down and grabbed my hand, lifted it to his face, and kissed the back of it gently. Cliched, yes, but I still melted!
"Thank you, sir." I managed to reply, taking the rose, after the little chill ran down my spine. "Shall we go?"
V.O. He took my arm and led me out the door. As I shut it behind me, I heard a little collective shriek/sigh/groan coming from the direction of my kitchen. I knew the girls already had their opinions of him through their various utterances!
Upon reaching the street, I discovered that he had another nice surprise in store for me -- a chauffeured Towncar. I had expected that we would be walking to whatever our destination was to be, and the discovery that I wouldn't have to ruin yet another pair of $300 Jimmy Choo strappy sandals was enough to make me just about the happiest woman in the city at the time. I let a big grin come to rest on my face.
"What are you suddenly so happy about?" He asked, teasingly, playing with one of my errant curls.
"Oh, I was just thinking about how my feet will thank you for the ride."
"Ah. And how are they planning on doing that?" he replied with a wink and a raised eyebrow.
I gave him an elbow nudge and got into the car.
Ok, so I really did mean to wait to kiss him. At least until after dinner. But I just lost all sense of self control almost the moment he stepped into the car and shut the door behind him. Sorry, I know I'm a writer/English degree holder, but I only have one word to describe the ten or so minutes that followed: Mmmmmmm. (that barely even qualifies as a word!)
We finally arrived at our destination, no small feat in Saturday evening Manhattan traffic, and he opened the car door to reveal Moomba, one of New York's hottest nightspots!
That's when I knew that Mr. Big had real clout in New York: It was impossible to get a table at Moomba without 6 months advanced reservation, unless you were REALLY somebody!
"Well, I can't say I led a charmed life early on, but I'm working on it now." Big continued, divulging his life story to me over Cosmopolitans and a Scotch. "I grew up living in someone else's home, because my father fell on hard times when I was a baby, and his best friends, the Darcy's took us in. I grew up alongside another boy, the son of my dad's best friend. We were like brothers, and his father made it possible for me to attend Princeton when I graduated from High School. I planned to major in business, then get my MBA in order to help my benefactor by working for him after I'd completed school. Unfortunately, Mr. Darcy senior died while I was in my second year of school, and, though he left express wishes in this will that my education, through graduate school, would be taken care of, his son, my friend, Mr. William Darcy, chose to consider his father's wishes as "requests" only. He consented to pay for the rest of my education at Princeton, but refused to give me anything else. I was forced to change my major, and focus on getting scholarships so I could continue."
"That's so terrible. I had no idea anyone could be so dishonorable as to disregard their own father's wishes! This Mr. William Darcy must be a real jerk. You should do something-- can't you sue him or something?" I replied, shocked and horrified that anyone could be so cruel to a childhood friend.
"Well, its all in the past now, and I could never do anything to hurt William Darcy, since I still have such a great love and respect for his father."
V.O. I patted his had reassuringly, and he gave me a weak smile. This was a little too much of a sob story to take on a first date, but he was just so cute that I didn't think anything of it...