Blind Date with a Wookiee

“Maggie, you’re with Hancho. He’s an exchange student.” I briefly wondered if he was South American or Italian.

“Kay.” I said resignedly. But no one heard me because Allie was already talking over me, and didn’t even pause for my answer.

“Oh! Before I forget:” Allie said, “Cindy, I know that originally you and Hugh were going to go together, but Zach called me and said Hugh had to bail, I think his sister had a baby. So now you’re going to be with Kevin.”

“Oh, cool. Have I met Kevin?” Asked Cindy.

Allie looked in the rear-view mirror, and turned on her blinker.

“Uh, no. I don’t think you have. He’s Zach’s roommate’s cousin. I don’t think he really hangs out with them that often.”

Michelle, in the passenger seat just rolled her eyes.

“Okay.” Said Cindy. Noble Cindy! Her voice still smiled despite the voluminous annoyance that her downcast eyes betrayed. Cindy and I had been dorm neighbors, for the last month, and I had never seen her upset. For any negative emotion to be detectable in Cindy from the surface, it would have to be of mammoth proportions. (I called it the ice-burg phenomenon.) 

An hour drive later, four girls piled out of the car into the restaurant parking lot: all freshly showered, flat-ironed, curled, and perfumed. Allie led the way saying that the boys had already gotten a table for eight on ‘the terrace’ and were waiting for us. 

Allie ran up the dark stairs to Zach, threw her purse on the ground next to the table, and hugged him. I was confused as to why she did not kiss him, after constantly hearing her say what a great kisser he was. Oh yeah, they show almost no physical affection in public, so that they can more than make up for it in privacy. I knew it was a bratty thought, but I was angry, and so I dwelt on it with anger and gusto.

It was the kind of restaurant little kids loved. Allie picked it: jungle-themed, with waiters in safari gear and monkey suits singing happy birthday to an eight-year-old, and fake trees everywhere.

We followed Allie somberly, all in a line: myself, Cindy, and my roommate Michelle—all of us feeling humiliated for being stupid enough to be sucked into being her minions of the day.

Allie never lost a chance to rub her boyfriend in anyone’s face, and this opportunity was . . . opportune. She seemed to think having a cute boyfriend made her higher ranking, and somehow put her in charge. She had made us all promise to let her ‘set us up’ with some ‘hot MCU boys’ two weeks ago---before we had enough information to assess her character.

 I watched three boys and a Wookiee line up. She couldn’t have her superiority put in jeopardy by pairing us with anyone who could be superior to her boyfriend. I thought glumly. Two nerds and a Wookiee fit her agenda.

Dave stepped forward to claim my out-of-his-league roommate, Michelle. Blond, blond, Allie stepped forward to greet the gangly economy major, Kevin, with a “nice to meet you” that Cindy was none too happy about. “Nice to meet you” from Allie to Kevin meant that Allie hadn’t screened Kevin for Cindy. She hadn’t even met him. All she cared about was having us help pay to fill her gas-tank. But Cindy was gracious as usual and fell into conversation subdued enough to comfort this shy specimen.

“Maggie, this is Hancho.” she said, nodding her blond head toward the Wookiee. Suddenly, a bulb clicked on in my head. A previous conversation with Allie about me studying Wookiee for three years came back to me.

“I’m Maggie.” I said offering my hand. He grasped it gently in his huge hand-like paw. I had never shaken hands with a wookie before, and his fur was surprisingly silky.