Big Five

“Welcome to the Big Five dating agency. How may I help you today?” the suave looking man behind the counter asked. I saw a name badge identifying him as Roger.

“We’re looking to sign up,” Amy said, handing over a pair of forms.

“Excellent,” he said.

He had a thin moustache, dark eyes and expertly coifed head of hair, and wore an ivory suit, with a crimson silk tie and matching cufflinks shaped like little hearts.

“Be-leenda!” he called out.

A dumpy older woman with a tousle of mousy blonde hair shuffled in. She had the kind of face that wore a perpetually sour expression, and her white uniform made her look like a space-age nurse.

“Can you run over these forms whilst I escort these two handsome young ladies to the test area?”

Belinda grunted an acknowledgement, took the papers and disappeared.

“If you would follow me?”

Roger’s peculiarity and the tacky décor of the place did nothing to assuage my concerns; chiefly, the embarrassment of going to a dating agency—in this day and age! I suppose I could always lie and say we met on Tinder.

Amy, having roped me into this, was unfazed as usual, gaily engaging in conversation with Roger.

“Did you hear that, Jen? Big Five has an 80% success rate in the first 30 days.”

“The first 30 days? Wowee.” If my mother hadn’t instilled it so hard into me, my eyes would have been rolling around untethered in their sockets.

We were seated on one of two identical white lounges facing each other.

“One moment.” Roger said, his smile highlighting a mild case of crow’s feet which betrayed his actual age. He disappeared within the maze of white corridors.

“What do you think of the place? Pretty cool, yeah?” Amy said, crossing her legs and twirling the tips of her long, strawberry blonde hair.

“I feel like the building’s about to lift off into space. If I end up as an alien sex slave, so help me…Although at least I’d be getting some action.”

Amy laughed. “You’re so weird, Jen. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend.” Then, upon seeing the hurt look on my face, said, “I didn’t mean it like that; I love your weirdness.”

“It’s okay.”

Roger reappeared with Belinda lagging behind him. He had some paperwork and she was holding a tray with tea and coffee on it.

“Let’s confirm a couple of things before we get underway. Amy, you’re 28, Jen you’re 29, you both work in marketing, and you’re both looking for a man?”

“For the moment,” Amy jested, playfully prodding me in the belly.

I side-eyed Amy into submission.

“Here at Big Five, we have three packages we like to offer—”

“We’re only interested in the Perfect Match package.”

“Excellent,” he said, smiling through clenched teeth. “Before you make up your mind though, I just have to tell you about our current special offer. All new customers who sign up to the Perfect Match package are offered a bonus ‘Opposites Attract’ add-on for only 20 dollars. Let me explain to you why you simply can’t lose with this deal…”

I sighed.

“You sign up for the package, meet your perfect match first and if it works out, then we refund the cost of the add-on. On the slim chance it doesn’t, then you’ve got a second match using a different algorithm. You really can’t lose.”

I Imagined trying to explain this to my parents. So I was introduced to my husband by this debonair space pimp…

“How long do we have to decide if the first match has worked out?” I asked.

“30 days of course. We strive to make sure you’re 100% satisfied. If you’re not happy, we’re not happy.” Roger ended every sentence with a dandified grin.

“Plenty of time. Come on, Jen, what’s another 20 bucks?” Amy pleaded. She looked like an adorable kitten with her big blue eyes and impish complexion—the perfect honeypot for a certain kind of male.

“Oh, all right. Only because I don’t want you calling call me a tight-arse again.”

“Excellent!” Roger said. “I’ll need your payment details and we’ll move onto the test.”

*

I can’t believe I let her drag me into this.

I had just finished sorting through pictures of roughly a hundred men, choosing whether I found them attractive or unattractive.

I have a soft heart.

I stared into the annoyed expression of the brunette, wavy-haired woman reflected in the tablet and tapped ‘somewhat disagree’. The sparse, all-white testing room was consistent with the rest of the building. I got side-tracked trying to come up with a joke; something about the ‘testing room’ being called the ‘probing room’…

I have a vivid imagination.

I suppose I do. I tapped ‘Agree’.

Roger informed us the test would measure our Big Five personality traits: Openness, Conscientiousness, Extraversion, Agreeableness and Neuroticism.

I am often troubled by negative thoughts.

‘Somewhat agree’.

I feel comfortable around people.

Depends on the person. ‘Neutral’.

There are many things that I do not like about myself.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Beat ya!” Amy interrupted, then performed a comical dance where she twisted the tablet from side to side around her waist and kicked her legs out like an old-timey prospector.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ll see you out there.”

I looked down at the question again, better just skip it for now.

*

Amy was matched with a carpenter named Ryan. He was tall and had dark blond hair. I’d like to say he had more muscle than sense but he wasn’t dumb. In fact, it was hard to find things not to like about him.

The first time I met Ryan, I was having breakfast and scrolling through Instagram in the kitchen before work. Amy had shuffled in, yawning profusely. All she wore was an oversized flannel shirt with a couple of buttons done up, despite the fact it was a chilly Autumn morning.

“Your match working out well?” I tried to sound aloof.

Judging from last night, they’d moved out of the courtship phase and into the ‘sex all the time’ phase.

“Swimmingly,” Amy said, chugging a mouthful of OJ straight from the bottle.

Ryan appeared behind her, wearing only a ludicrously tight pair of briefs.

“I was thinking we could have a shower tog—” Then he saw me at the table.

“Ah, you must be Jen. Sorry about last night…and this morning, if we were a bit loud,” he said, cheeks flushed.

The sight of his finely toned body led me to utter one of the least sexy sentences in human history. “It’s okay, I always wear earplugs to bed.”

Amy did her best not to burst out laughing. “Ooookay. Let’s head back to bed.”

I managed a shaky smile and waved goodbye. They ran off giggling like schoolkids.

*

I finally met my match, Myles, the weekend after.

Expectations high, we met for drinks at a trendy bar modeled after the soda shops of the 1950’s, all dark wood, leather, neon lights illuminating the various curios scattered around the place.

He was an English teacher, half Italian, half Filipino. He was clean-cut and handsome with gorgeous caramel skin and lovely brown eyes that instantly made me feel at ease.

“So great to finally meet you, Jen.”

Quick Jen, analyze his reaction. If there’s a break in his smile or a twitch of the eye then he’s disappointed because he doesn’t find you attractive. No obvious sign, too hard to tell, distracted by disarming smile.

“How’d you hear about Big Five?” he asked.

“My roommate dragged me into it. Her match is working out splendidly.”

“Ah, must be so fun for you living there.”

“I’m having a great time.”

“Should we get drinks?”

“Sure. I’ll have a Merlot,” I said.

“Me too, I love Merlot.”

“Who doesn’t?” I chuckled nervously.

There was silence as we both inspected the menu.

“Something to snack on?” he suggested.

“What do you feel like?”

“Whatever, I’m easy. Whatever you want,” he said.

“I’m easy too. I don’t mind.”

I suddenly had a startling realization; one I imagine many of the people matched by Big Five have. Did they match people based on similarity? If so, because I knew my scores, I also knew his. Agreeableness was my highest scoring trait.

“How about I choose…or you choose first, then we’ll swap?” he said whilst rereading the menu for the fifth time.

“Did you score high on neuroticism?” I asked suddenly.

He sighed as if a massive weight was lifted from his chest, the barely held visage of the well-put-together man shed like snakeskin.

“80,” he almost whispered.

“83. Guess I win, huh?”

He whistled. “Guess you do.”

“So, did you want that drink?” he said after a time.

“I don’t think I want to be with someone as neurotic as me.”

Then he sighed, “No, me neither.”

He helped me out of the booth like a perfect gentleman. We hugged, platonic and pure.

“Good luck, Myles.”

“You too, Jen.”

*

I stomped into the kitchen, chucked my handbag on the table and unscrewed the bottle of bargain-bin Merlot I’d bought on the way home.

I put the bottle to my mouth and turned it completely upside down. Estimating I’d probably drunk about a glass’s worth—maybe a teensy bit more—I plonked the plonk on the table, let out an overexaggerated ‘ahhh’ and wiped my mouth with my sleeve.

Unbeknownst to me, Ryan witnessed the entire ritual. He was leaning in the doorway, wearing a cheeky grin and—disappointingly—a full set of clothes. “Your date went well?”

“Fantastically.” I took another swig from the bottle.

“Bad match?”

“Well…yes and no. We just both knew it wouldn’t have worked.” I sighed. “When you’re nearly 30, you don’t have time to fuck around. Gosh, what a cliché I am.”

Ryan had a swig of his own, then said, “I’m 33.”

“Wow. You could get away with much younger.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“How’s everything going with Amy?” I asked.

“Oh, great. She’s great, just my type.” There was a trace of hesitancy there. “If I’m being honest, I am a little surprised we were matched.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’ve been with girls like Amy before and it’s been fun and everything, but I was kind of looking for something a bit more…substantial, you know? I thought Big Five would’ve matched me with someone a little different.”

I was about to say something, then Amy walked in, unceremoniously dumping her shopping bags on the floor.

“What’s going on here? Stealing my match, are we?” She kissed Ryan over the shoulder.

It was a stab in the guts to hear Ryan chuckle genuinely enough for the both of us.

“I totally forgot. How did your date go? I wouldn’t have expected—”

“Not well.” I grabbed the remaining wine. “I’m going to bed. Talk about it tomorrow.”

*

The phone rang.

Roger glanced up at the clock which read 4:52pm. Damn, another few minutes and he could’ve gotten away with not answering it.

“Big Five, how may I help you?... Hello, Jen. How is Ryan working out? …Oh, yes, Myles, of course. How silly of me…Such a shame…Yes! The Opposites Attract package. I’ll get that to you as soon as possible. I’m absolutely positive this one will be a winner…Have a lovely day. Buh-bye.”

Roger brought up Jen’s and Amy’s profiles on the computer.

“Whoopsie,” he whistled. “Better fix this up.” Then he dragged Myles out of Amy’s ‘Perfect Match’ box and into Jen’s, and vice-a-versa with Ryan.

“All done.”

He changed out of his uniform and into jeans, a grey shirt and dark jacket, and messed up his slicked-back hair; the thin moustache the only remaining evidence of Big Five Roger. He switched off the lights and closed the door.

And thus ended another day at the Big Five dating agency.