By Elizabeth Collis
First published in Ellipsis Zine EZ#13 Hoochie Coochie
“That’s what you do? Go right when you like him?”
“Yeah. Left when you’re not interested.”
Mama says swipe left. “He looks mopey, like he lost his cat. Is this the way to find a husband?”
“Boyfriend. Yeah, everyone does it this way now. It’s normal.”
Mama brings two fingers to her lips like she’s really considering it, then says swipe left. “This one ran over his cat by mistake. Car too fancy. You choose a boyfriend from a photo?”
“And the info they give you. You go on a date, several dates, see if you like each other.”
Mama says swipe left, pokes my arm with her fingers. “That one strangled his cat. Honey, he looks dangerous, makes me nervous. This is no way to find a husband, girl.”
“Boyfriend, date. It’s no different from the matchmaker putting you and Papa together. It’s just online now, and faster and I do the choosing, not my family.”
“Nothing wrong with matchmaking. Family knows best. Think of the beautiful marriage your father and I have, twenty-eight years. We grew to love each other.”
“Humph.”
“Let’s see.” Mama wrinkles her nose, says swipe left. “He’s allergic to cats. Look at his red nose and small eyes and what’s with the orange beanie?”
“He’s outdoors in the snow, he’s just cold. But you’re right, doesn’t look very healthy. Look, here’s one with a cat!”
Mama says swipe left, narrows her eyes like she knows. She knows. “This one would love his cat more than you. An Abyssinian cat, eh? It would suck all the attention out of him. Here, give me the phone.”
“Wait, he’s good-looking—hey, give it back!”
Mama swipes left, and left and left, the screen light sparking in her eyes, her gaze flicking. That focus—a kitten watching a swinging toy, one paw raised to swat, ready to pounce.