The Interview Jacob Mitchell

"I really can't believeyou're going through with this," said my little sister, Jessa.

We sat in the waiting room at Arranged Hearts where I was having an interview I never imagined willingly signing up for.

"Me either, Jess."

"Explain to me again why you need help finding a woman?"

"I don't need help finding a woman. I need help finding a wife."

"And you think the best way to get a wife is to marry a complete stranger? Make it make sense."

I rolled my eyes. At times, I forgot she was twenty-one. I had thirteen years on her, so, of course, she wouldn't understand my reasoning for half the shit I did. While we were close, it was like we grew up in two different generations. My twenty-one was nothing like her twenty-one.

She continued her line of questioning. "What if she's ugly? Huh? What if she's bald-headed with missing teeth and a unibrow? You don't know what you're getting, Jake. You could marry a black widow, a scammer, a woman that used to be a man… anything. Then who's gonna have to fight them? Me. I don't mind throwing hands over you, but you're putting me in a tough spot when you asked for this."

"Jess, you're overthinking this, baby. I told you, this was a very thorough company. They cover all the bases."

"That may be true, but Mama always said, you never know what's going on in somebody's head. They can tell you anything."

I hated that she was right about that. When I signed up for this matchmaking service, I never thought I'd actually go through with it. Run-ins with cheaters, lairs, users, and manipulators had left me single for three years now. I was slowly approaching my forties, and I was ready to settle down.

I wanted the wife and kids, family dinners, family vacations, school drop-offs and pickups, dance recitals, football games… all that shit. I wasn't any closer to finding it on my own, so why not solicit the help of a professional? The idea came to me when I saw this story about this couple that met through a matchmaking service. I went down the rabbit hole with their story and others like it. It became an obsession, as did most things that really intrigued me. I told myself it wouldn't hurt to give it a try.

When I told my family, they looked at me like I was crazy. We were in the middle of Sunday dinner after I applied for the services. I could have delivered the news a little better than my nonchalant manner. The room was quiet, as though they were waiting for me to say it was a joke. When I told them I was serious, there was an uproar.

Needless to say, I walked out of there with more than a full stomach. My parents still hadn't come around to it. They couldn't get with me meeting my wife for the first time at the altar. Jess was the only person who semi-supported me, but even she had questions.

I turned to my sister and finally addressed her concerns. "Jess, this place has a ninety-seven percent success rate."

"And with your luck, you'll be in that unlucky three."

"Have some faith in your brother."

"I have all the faith in the world in you, Jake. It's these bitches I don't trust. I'm too pretty for jail, and I'm not trying to have some big bitch named Bertha force me to be her prison wife. I don't want to eat; I'd rather be eaten… by a man."

"I don't need that visual, Jess."

"Well, that's what's gonna happen if you marry a woman that does you dirty. I'm going to jail, and her blood will be on both our hands."

She crossed her arms and legs with a slight pout on her face. I shook my head. Even with thirteen years separating us, we were close. She loved to run my pockets, and I almost always let her. She was basically my overgrown child.

I relaxed into the chair, thinking about what kind of woman I could possibly get matched with. I knew they would ask me my preferences during the interview. While I didn't have many, I did have some that were important and couldn't be compromised on. I just prayed this worked out. I wouldn't give up on love per se, but the good Lord would have to come down, sit next to me, and say, "Aye, bruh. That's you right there."

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of my name being called.

"Jacob Mitchell!"

"Wish me luck," I said to Jess as I stood.

She sighed. "Good luck. I mean that. You know I don't understand this, but I love you, and I support you."

I smiled. "Thanks, Jess."

She rolled her eyes. "Go on. And tell them to hurry up. I don't need anybody thinking I need help next."

I shook my head as I walked away from her and into the back. The woman that greeted me smiled as she closed the door behind me. I followed her down the hall until we came to a stop in front of a door labeled with the name Chance Palmer.

With a soft knock, she opened the door and stepped in.

"Mr. Palmer, your one o'clock is here."

Mr. Palmer motioned me in. "Thank you."

She nodded and left the room, leaving us alone. Mr. Palmer stood and extended his hand with a warm smile.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Mitchell. Please, make yourself comfortable."

The moment I sat in the chair, I became overwhelmed with nerves. I was a naturally calm person, yet in this moment, I felt a little bit of panic seep in. My hands felt clammy. My throat felt dry, and suddenly, the button-up I wore felt like it was choking me.

"Can I offer you a beverage?" Mr. Palmer asked.

"Water," I choked out, rubbing my throat.

He turned and fetched a bottle of water from the small mini fridge behind him. When he handed it to me, I eagerly took it, twisted off the cap, and downed half the bottle.

"Nervous?" he asked, as I wiped my mouth.

"I wasn't… I'm not so sure anymore."

He chuckled. "It's a natural feeling. I mean, you are about to put your love life in the hands of strangers. Nervousness is warranted. How about we do an icebreaker? Tell me a little about you."

I capped the bottle and relaxed into the chair.

"Well, I'm thirty-four. I was almost an only child until my parents started over when I was thirteen. Now I have a little sister who sees me as her personal ATM."

He chuckled. "She's just preparing you for parenthood."

"At this point, I'm overly prepared."

"How does your family feel about you going through this process?"

"They think I'm crazy. I don't expect this to be a walk in the park for them. My parents want me to go through the whole process of dating and getting to know someone. I don't think you ever really know a person. People change from sunup to sundown."

"Amen to that. We are constantly evolving. Different circumstances and stages of life birth new people."

"I agree. Let's see, where was I? Oh, I graduated from South Carolina State University with a BA in creative writing as well as a master's in fine arts. I'm a writer and illustrator of children's books. The world knows me as J.A Mitchell."

Mr. Palmer leaned forward. "I read your books to my five-year-old almost every night. She's obsessed with them. We have quite a collection of your work."

"I appreciate that."

He grabbed a legal pad and a pen, before settling in his seat again.

"Alright, Mr. Mitchell, let's get down to business. First thing first, do I have your consent to record this interview?"

"If it helps in the matching process, by all means."

"It most definitely will." He pressed record on the camera. "I have a few questions for you, just to gauge your compatibility on what we consider are the most important areas in match making. I'll tell you what we tell everyone who walks through our doors. Relationships work when you put the work in. This is far beyond looks. This is rooted in compatibility, deep connection, understanding, respect, and acceptance."

"I agree with that 100%."

"I'm gonna hold you to that. Shall we get started?"

"I'm ready."

"First question. What are the most important values you look for in a partner?"

I thought for a moment. "Loyalty, honesty, respect, first and foremost. I need a woman with strong communication skills with the emotional intelligence to match. I don't like to argue, and I never want to go to bed angry. One of us may not wake up the next morning, and I don't want the last words I hear or say to be something I can't take back or apologize for."

Mr. Palmer nodded as he scribbled on his notepad.

"Next, question. How important is physical intimacy in your relationship?"

"Honestly, it's very important. It's not just sex, though. There's intimacy in kissing, touching, and holding hands. There's intimacy in gazing into each other's eyes. I want to feel like I'm making love to my wife. Our connection needs to be on point. Like when I look in her eyes, I want to see desire burning for me, not lust. An intimate connection with my wife should be almost spiritual."

Mr. Palmer grinned. "My brotha, I feel you on that. The deeper the connection, the better the sex."

"Absolutely."

"Next question. How would you describe your ideal first date?"

"Something where we can really talk and get to know each other. Maybe something that incorporates a hobby of ours or something we could bond over. I take date planning very seriously. I wouldn't want any woman I date to feel like she could have just stayed home."

He chuckled. "Amen to that. Next question. Do you want children someday? If so, how many?"

"Without a doubt. In my younger days, I said I wanted five. I'm older now, and my knees ain't what they used to be. Two or three will suffice for me, preferably not with the age gap between me and my sister."

"Are you religious? If so, how important is it that your partner believes the same as you?"

"I am a God-fearing man. I might not go to church as often as I should, but I believe you can praise God from anywhere. Any woman I date needs to have her own spiritual connection, regardless of her religious affiliation."

Mr. Palmer nodded. "Alright, this is the last of the vital questions. Give me your most important physical attributes."

"I'm a little worried about how this will make me sound."

He chuckled. "Just be honest."

"Well… I like thick women. I mean, I'm a big man, and I need something to hold onto. I don't really have a height preference. Ethnicity… black. No offense to other women, but I was born of a black queen, and my children will be born of a black queen. I don't have a preference for hair. I like weaves, wigs, braids, locs, all that. But… I am partial to natural hair. It's something about a sista with natural hair that just does it for me. What else… I'm a sucker for full lips and a beautiful smile. If she has dimples, I'm in trouble. I have a thing for feet. Not in a fetish type of way, but pretty feet and hands are a turn-on."

Mr. Palmer chuckled. "Outside of this setting, I think you and I would be in competition, Mr. Mitchell."

He placed the legal pad and pen down, then leaned forward on his desk.

"I do have a few other questions, but this is the point where I must reiterate that this may take some time. We have hundreds of potential matches, and we are dedicated to finding the right one for you. You are aware that the first time you see your partner will be at your wedding correct?"

"Yes."

"Good. Here at Arranged Hearts, we strive to help you find true and everlasting love. The only difference between this and traditional dating is you get married first. I'll tell you like I tell all my clients. You still have to date your spouse. It doesn't matter if you have been together five or fifty years; you have to keep that spark alive. Again, I'll state, that it works if you put in the work. Are you willing to put in the work, Mr. Mitchell?"

I nodded. "I've been ready. This isn't how I imagined finding a wife, but I'm here, I'm ready, and I'm open. I just hope whoever my wife to be is, is on the same page."

"If she's here, she is. Now, let's get down to business."

I sat back in my seat, prepared to finish the interview. My nerves were creeping back up on me. I wasn't having any doubts. I simply prayed that when I met this woman at the altar, she'd be everything I could have hoped for.