Corey Siddig first saw Matthew on the San Francisco Muni, on that Wednesday morning she called in sick to work. He looked to be about twenty or twenty-one and was unpretentiously hipster, with his wide brown eyes, tight jeans, and dark green jacket. Over his shoulder was a bulging canvas bag adorned with badges. He stood leaning against a pole, clutching a giant sketchbook, looking so pretty and oblivious that Corey found it hard not to stare.
“You’re going through all that quarter-life angst,” Hayden had told her several weeks back when she said that she felt stuck, that she wanted to move forward with her life but didn’t know what it was that she should work towards.
Corey was twenty-four, next week turning twenty-five. Hayden was Vice President of Sales and Marketing where she worked and the boss of her boss.
“How do you get over it?” she had asked.
“Get married. Have kids. Take on another set of problems so that the old ones seem irrelevant.”
“That was reassuring. Thanks for giving me something to look forward to.”
Corey worked in the Marketing department of a Fortune 500 subsidiary that specialized in trendy electronics. Career-wise, it was her first real job, great on the resume and with many useful learning opportunities. She didn’t usually skip work for no reason but had decided she needed the break. She was good at what she did, but also increasingly aware that the reality of her job was to convince consumers who should be doing something constructive with their money to go spend it on some hot new thing that would be obsolete in less than a year. It was within this context that she first saw Matthew.
They got off at the same stop, at Market and Montgomery. Corey watched Matthew stride off down New Montgomery in the direction where a bunch of art museums were located. She wondered what he drew, if he did it for fun or planned to pursue it professionally. Then she wondered if he had a girlfriend, a pretty nymph sporting thrift store clothes and a flawless complexion, the latter the courtesy of a diet of organic, locally grown foods and all that exercise riding her fixed-gear bicycle.
As for Corey, she trudged toward Fisherman’s Wharf with the intention of playing tourist. She had no plan and if she had been hoping that inspiration would hit and what to do would magically reveal itself, she was mistaken. She ended up aimlessly wandering, depressed by the realization that she was wasting her day, counting down the hours as she would have done if she’d just gone on in to work.
She was still thinking about Matthew the next day at work. At twelve Corey grabbed her purse and keys. On the way out she met Hayden. He was just entering the building and took off his sunglasses as he saw her.
“Hey Corey. Lunchtime?”
“Yeah, meeting a friend.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No. A girl friend. You’ve met her before. My friend, Sam? Tall, dark hair, works at _____.”
“Your Berkeley friend. Where you two off to today?”
“That little Japanese place next to Panera.”
Hayden grinned. “Have a good time.”
“I will, thanks,” she said as she passed him. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Hayden had glanced back to watch her; she wore a pencil skirt well. Biting back a smile, she headed toward her car.
If Corey was completely honest, she had noticed Hayden her first day on the job, him amongst the many men she was introduced to that day. In that thirty-second introduction, she thought she glimpsed the fifty-year-old version of the man she had always searched for but never found in college. In school, she was surrounded by undergraduate boys who were as insecure about the real world as she was, and Corey wanted someone who was confident in his ability to navigate the corporate world. Then she met Hayden with his self-deprecating smile, his tendency to flirt with the ladies.
She never told anyone about her little crush. He was married and had two kids, the oldest of whom was in her second year of college. Even if he had been willing, there was a stickiness there that she knew, rationally, she wouldn’t be willing to deal with. But she was drawn to him; he made her curious. He was fun to talk to, refreshingly candid beneath his banter. He was someone she could admit her insecurities to.
“I’m telling you like it is. I work, get paid, go home, and play ATM,” Hayden told her when Corey said that his account of adult life gave her little to look forward to.
Corey’s eyes narrowed. “Right, your wife is just sitting around at home, doing her nails and shopping, while your kids take care of themselves.”
“No, my wife is an amazing woman, especially with our kids—they’re little hellions. They’re a blast,” he added at Corey’s look. “But they’re autonomous beings, have needs, make demands, do everything you don’t want them to do. They’re expensive. Worth the price but they drive you nuts.” He grinned. “What are you like with your parents? I bet you’re a completely different person than you are at work.”
“My sister Caitlin had the attitude. I was an angel.”
“Sure you were. My point is that whatever the rewards, family life comes with its own set of costs.”
“You’re not supposed to tell me these things.”
“Why not?”
“You’re supposed to tell me how you made all the right decisions at my age and now you’re reaping the benefits. Or give me the inside scoop so I don’t make the same mistakes.”
“This is the inside scoop. Mess around and be selfish now. Don’t go into debt. You have a good job, make decent money. No reason you can’t start putting money toward a retirement account. Don’t get caught up in the materialistic frenzy that we promote around here. A house is an investment. These fancy gadgets we make aren’t.”
“Did you know what you wanted to do when you were my age?”
“Oh god no. I majored in Political Science, had vague notions of going to law school like every other liberal arts grad. My first job was in sales. I worked my way up, got my MBA. I fell into what I did. Most people do.”
It wasn’t a particularly inspiring revelation, but still. “I guess I can understand that.”
Hayden grinned at the look on her face. “I was in your position once, myself. You look at all of us old people and we depress you, and you look down on us, don’t you?”
“I-, what, no.”
“I have two teenage girls. Not entirely senile like you guys think. I see things.”
Corey smirked at that. “I have to get ready for a meeting.”
Corey met Matthew on her birthday. It was Tuesday and she was at a café-bar, waiting for her roommate to get out of class at UCSF. The café was packed and people were sharing tables. Corey got her drink and saw Matthew sitting alone, reading a book. He seemed distracted. He kept glancing up and staring around. She approached him and pointed to the chair opposite him.
“Anyone sitting here?”
He shook his head and she sat down. In another of his glances around the room, he caught her gaze. He smiled.
“What are you reading?” she asked.
He held up his book so she could see the cover.
“I was somehow able to avoid him all through high school and college. And I majored in English.” She pretended to consider his face. “I’ve seen you on the Muni. You hit me once with your giant sketchbook.”
“Yeah? Sorry about that.”
“I’m kidding. What do you draw?”
“I’m taking an anatomy class.”
“Are you an art student?”
“No, film. The art class is for fun.”
“That’s really neat.” She smiled. “I’m Corey.”
“Matthew.”
“What year are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Third year at SF State.”
“I took a night class there about a year back.”
“Oh yeah, what class?”
“Photoshop and InDesign, for work.”
“Where do you work?”
She told him and he asked her what she did and how she liked it. Listening to herself speak, Corey realized she portrayed herself as a person who looked down on her job but was nonetheless a workaholic.
“So what do you do for fun?” Matthew asked.
Until then, he had spoken as one does with a casual stranger, no reason to be disinterested but no reason to care too much about what she had to say. He looked at her now as though her answer would determine the opinion he was forming about her. It took her back, and a feeling of deficiency came over her as she considered her answer. What did she do for fun? Watch TV, drink with friends, go shopping?
“I don’t know. I should start focusing more on that aspect of my life, shouldn’t I?”
Earlier that day, Hayden had caught up to Corey as she was leaving work. “I hear today’s your birthday,” he said. “Any special plans?”
“Not tonight. My sister and my friend Sam are coming up into the city this weekend, so we’re going out then.”
“Pick up some guys, have them buy your drinks?”
“Not a huge fan of strangers buying me drinks.”
“Why not?”
Corey shrugged. “It just feels weird, receiving something when I know I’m not going to give anything in return.”
“For the pleasure of your five-minute company.”
“Um, no.”
“You’re not going to shatter the guy’s heart into a thousand pieces. He offered to buy. He didn’t have to.” When Corey didn’t say anything, Hayden said, “you need to open your mind. You’re a good-looking girl. You live in the city. You’re telling me you can’t find any guy that interests you? What are you waiting for?”
“True love. Instant chemistry. The other half to my power couple.”
“Well until you find him, have some fun. You can plan and detail as much as you want, but real life is trial and error and luck.”
“We’ll see.”
“Maybe you should try someone older, if guys your own age don’t interest you.”
Corey looked at Hayden and wondered if he had ever cheated on his wife. She’d met plenty of flirts. But what did she really know about those who took it further? “Or someone younger,” she said.
“No, you don’t want to date younger guys.”
“Why’s that?”
“Come on, I was at that age once, and all my friends. We were just-. I know what I was thinking then, things you wouldn’t want to know about.”
“Right, because as you get older, you just naturally become more honorable.”
“No, we grow up. Stop taking things for granted. Start realizing who it is that has the control.”
“That’s a nice move, conceding your power like that.”
“Hey, it worked on my wife. Besides we have to humble up as we get more competition. The women start looking twice at the nerds.”
Corey smiled. “I think dating a younger guy would be fun.”
She saw Matthew again that weekend at a dance club in the Mission. He wore a light blue dress shirt, holding a drink in his hand. She saw him dance with several girls so perhaps they were his friends and not a girlfriend. The girls looked younger than her.
He saw her later when she was coming back from the bar; he must have come from the restroom. “Hey… Corey, right?”
“Good memory. I keep seeing you everywhere.”
“Yeah, do you come here often?”
“No, not for over a year.”
“What’s the special occasion?”
“I’m celebrating my birthday.”
“How old?”
“Guess.”
Matthew looked her over. “Late twenties. Twenty-seven, twenty-eight.”
“Ouch. Try twenty-five.”
He smiled. “It’s because you come across as more the put-together type.”
“Thanks… I think.”
She moved aside for a trail of new arrivals, putting her in closer proximity to Matthew. She glanced past him, noticing the pool table lit up in red and the dance floor vaguely blue behind it, the figures shadowed and blurred. Close to him, she didn’t move away. She met his eyes, trying to gauge his interest.
He noticed and said, “I have a girlfriend.”
“Sorry.” Corey glanced out toward the dance floor, wondering if his girlfriend was out among the bunch of girls she had seen him with.
Watching them, she felt herself overcome by a strange panic. She was used to being noticed at work, what with good-looking twenty-somethings being something of a novelty in the corporate world. Here at the club though, it didn’t matter. She would never register on Matthew’s radar because she was already too old.
She watched those young, imperfect girls, who had fun and were simultaneously arrogant and insecure about their ability to attract boys, their clothes that might be trendy but not yet their own style. They were more beautiful and desirable in their awkwardness than Corey could ever dream of being, no matter how fetching her clothes, how perfect her figure, how far she advanced in her career. They possessed something she had lost—exactly when had she lost it?—that lack of awareness, that damning self-consciousness, when you know you are not invincible, but that you must perfect the art of appearing invincible.
She felt Matthew watching her. “Is she here?”
“Yeah, she’s here.”
“Where’d you two meet?”
“I met her at school.”
“How long have you been with your girlfriend?” she asked.
“A little over a year.”
Corey nodded. She knew then that if she wanted Hayden, she would be the one who would have to make the first move. It was a strange power, knowing that she could have him if she wanted him, the power she had in not having yet lived her life, the chance to do things differently.
She met Matthew’s gaze. “You’re an attractive guy. I thought that, the first time I saw you. I don’t know why I didn’t see it when I was your age.” Back then, she wouldn’t have looked twice. It wouldn’t have occurred to her that his type was one she could be drawn to. “I better go and find my friends. Thanks for indulging an older woman in conversation. Yeah,” Corey smiled, cutting Matthew off when he opened his mouth to speak. “You thought I was twenty-eight. That’s okay. Just wish me a happy birthday.”
“You’re going through all that quarter-life angst,” Hayden had told her several weeks back when she said that she felt stuck, that she wanted to move forward with her life but didn’t know what it was that she should work towards.
Corey was twenty-four, next week turning twenty-five. Hayden was Vice President of Sales and Marketing where she worked and the boss of her boss.
“How do you get over it?” she had asked.
“Get married. Have kids. Take on another set of problems so that the old ones seem irrelevant.”
“That was reassuring. Thanks for giving me something to look forward to.”
Corey worked in the Marketing department of a Fortune 500 subsidiary that specialized in trendy electronics. Career-wise, it was her first real job, great on the resume and with many useful learning opportunities. She didn’t usually skip work for no reason but had decided she needed the break. She was good at what she did, but also increasingly aware that the reality of her job was to convince consumers who should be doing something constructive with their money to go spend it on some hot new thing that would be obsolete in less than a year. It was within this context that she first saw Matthew.
They got off at the same stop, at Market and Montgomery. Corey watched Matthew stride off down New Montgomery in the direction where a bunch of art museums were located. She wondered what he drew, if he did it for fun or planned to pursue it professionally. Then she wondered if he had a girlfriend, a pretty nymph sporting thrift store clothes and a flawless complexion, the latter the courtesy of a diet of organic, locally grown foods and all that exercise riding her fixed-gear bicycle.
As for Corey, she trudged toward Fisherman’s Wharf with the intention of playing tourist. She had no plan and if she had been hoping that inspiration would hit and what to do would magically reveal itself, she was mistaken. She ended up aimlessly wandering, depressed by the realization that she was wasting her day, counting down the hours as she would have done if she’d just gone on in to work.
She was still thinking about Matthew the next day at work. At twelve Corey grabbed her purse and keys. On the way out she met Hayden. He was just entering the building and took off his sunglasses as he saw her.
“Hey Corey. Lunchtime?”
“Yeah, meeting a friend.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No. A girl friend. You’ve met her before. My friend, Sam? Tall, dark hair, works at _____.”
“Your Berkeley friend. Where you two off to today?”
“That little Japanese place next to Panera.”
Hayden grinned. “Have a good time.”
“I will, thanks,” she said as she passed him. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Hayden had glanced back to watch her; she wore a pencil skirt well. Biting back a smile, she headed toward her car.
If Corey was completely honest, she had noticed Hayden her first day on the job, him amongst the many men she was introduced to that day. In that thirty-second introduction, she thought she glimpsed the fifty-year-old version of the man she had always searched for but never found in college. In school, she was surrounded by undergraduate boys who were as insecure about the real world as she was, and Corey wanted someone who was confident in his ability to navigate the corporate world. Then she met Hayden with his self-deprecating smile, his tendency to flirt with the ladies.
She never told anyone about her little crush. He was married and had two kids, the oldest of whom was in her second year of college. Even if he had been willing, there was a stickiness there that she knew, rationally, she wouldn’t be willing to deal with. But she was drawn to him; he made her curious. He was fun to talk to, refreshingly candid beneath his banter. He was someone she could admit her insecurities to.
“I’m telling you like it is. I work, get paid, go home, and play ATM,” Hayden told her when Corey said that his account of adult life gave her little to look forward to.
Corey’s eyes narrowed. “Right, your wife is just sitting around at home, doing her nails and shopping, while your kids take care of themselves.”
“No, my wife is an amazing woman, especially with our kids—they’re little hellions. They’re a blast,” he added at Corey’s look. “But they’re autonomous beings, have needs, make demands, do everything you don’t want them to do. They’re expensive. Worth the price but they drive you nuts.” He grinned. “What are you like with your parents? I bet you’re a completely different person than you are at work.”
“My sister Caitlin had the attitude. I was an angel.”
“Sure you were. My point is that whatever the rewards, family life comes with its own set of costs.”
“You’re not supposed to tell me these things.”
“Why not?”
“You’re supposed to tell me how you made all the right decisions at my age and now you’re reaping the benefits. Or give me the inside scoop so I don’t make the same mistakes.”
“This is the inside scoop. Mess around and be selfish now. Don’t go into debt. You have a good job, make decent money. No reason you can’t start putting money toward a retirement account. Don’t get caught up in the materialistic frenzy that we promote around here. A house is an investment. These fancy gadgets we make aren’t.”
“Did you know what you wanted to do when you were my age?”
“Oh god no. I majored in Political Science, had vague notions of going to law school like every other liberal arts grad. My first job was in sales. I worked my way up, got my MBA. I fell into what I did. Most people do.”
It wasn’t a particularly inspiring revelation, but still. “I guess I can understand that.”
Hayden grinned at the look on her face. “I was in your position once, myself. You look at all of us old people and we depress you, and you look down on us, don’t you?”
“I-, what, no.”
“I have two teenage girls. Not entirely senile like you guys think. I see things.”
Corey smirked at that. “I have to get ready for a meeting.”
Corey met Matthew on her birthday. It was Tuesday and she was at a café-bar, waiting for her roommate to get out of class at UCSF. The café was packed and people were sharing tables. Corey got her drink and saw Matthew sitting alone, reading a book. He seemed distracted. He kept glancing up and staring around. She approached him and pointed to the chair opposite him.
“Anyone sitting here?”
He shook his head and she sat down. In another of his glances around the room, he caught her gaze. He smiled.
“What are you reading?” she asked.
He held up his book so she could see the cover.
“I was somehow able to avoid him all through high school and college. And I majored in English.” She pretended to consider his face. “I’ve seen you on the Muni. You hit me once with your giant sketchbook.”
“Yeah? Sorry about that.”
“I’m kidding. What do you draw?”
“I’m taking an anatomy class.”
“Are you an art student?”
“No, film. The art class is for fun.”
“That’s really neat.” She smiled. “I’m Corey.”
“Matthew.”
“What year are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Third year at SF State.”
“I took a night class there about a year back.”
“Oh yeah, what class?”
“Photoshop and InDesign, for work.”
“Where do you work?”
She told him and he asked her what she did and how she liked it. Listening to herself speak, Corey realized she portrayed herself as a person who looked down on her job but was nonetheless a workaholic.
“So what do you do for fun?” Matthew asked.
Until then, he had spoken as one does with a casual stranger, no reason to be disinterested but no reason to care too much about what she had to say. He looked at her now as though her answer would determine the opinion he was forming about her. It took her back, and a feeling of deficiency came over her as she considered her answer. What did she do for fun? Watch TV, drink with friends, go shopping?
“I don’t know. I should start focusing more on that aspect of my life, shouldn’t I?”
Earlier that day, Hayden had caught up to Corey as she was leaving work. “I hear today’s your birthday,” he said. “Any special plans?”
“Not tonight. My sister and my friend Sam are coming up into the city this weekend, so we’re going out then.”
“Pick up some guys, have them buy your drinks?”
“Not a huge fan of strangers buying me drinks.”
“Why not?”
Corey shrugged. “It just feels weird, receiving something when I know I’m not going to give anything in return.”
“For the pleasure of your five-minute company.”
“Um, no.”
“You’re not going to shatter the guy’s heart into a thousand pieces. He offered to buy. He didn’t have to.” When Corey didn’t say anything, Hayden said, “you need to open your mind. You’re a good-looking girl. You live in the city. You’re telling me you can’t find any guy that interests you? What are you waiting for?”
“True love. Instant chemistry. The other half to my power couple.”
“Well until you find him, have some fun. You can plan and detail as much as you want, but real life is trial and error and luck.”
“We’ll see.”
“Maybe you should try someone older, if guys your own age don’t interest you.”
Corey looked at Hayden and wondered if he had ever cheated on his wife. She’d met plenty of flirts. But what did she really know about those who took it further? “Or someone younger,” she said.
“No, you don’t want to date younger guys.”
“Why’s that?”
“Come on, I was at that age once, and all my friends. We were just-. I know what I was thinking then, things you wouldn’t want to know about.”
“Right, because as you get older, you just naturally become more honorable.”
“No, we grow up. Stop taking things for granted. Start realizing who it is that has the control.”
“That’s a nice move, conceding your power like that.”
“Hey, it worked on my wife. Besides we have to humble up as we get more competition. The women start looking twice at the nerds.”
Corey smiled. “I think dating a younger guy would be fun.”
She saw Matthew again that weekend at a dance club in the Mission. He wore a light blue dress shirt, holding a drink in his hand. She saw him dance with several girls so perhaps they were his friends and not a girlfriend. The girls looked younger than her.
He saw her later when she was coming back from the bar; he must have come from the restroom. “Hey… Corey, right?”
“Good memory. I keep seeing you everywhere.”
“Yeah, do you come here often?”
“No, not for over a year.”
“What’s the special occasion?”
“I’m celebrating my birthday.”
“How old?”
“Guess.”
Matthew looked her over. “Late twenties. Twenty-seven, twenty-eight.”
“Ouch. Try twenty-five.”
He smiled. “It’s because you come across as more the put-together type.”
“Thanks… I think.”
She moved aside for a trail of new arrivals, putting her in closer proximity to Matthew. She glanced past him, noticing the pool table lit up in red and the dance floor vaguely blue behind it, the figures shadowed and blurred. Close to him, she didn’t move away. She met his eyes, trying to gauge his interest.
He noticed and said, “I have a girlfriend.”
“Sorry.” Corey glanced out toward the dance floor, wondering if his girlfriend was out among the bunch of girls she had seen him with.
Watching them, she felt herself overcome by a strange panic. She was used to being noticed at work, what with good-looking twenty-somethings being something of a novelty in the corporate world. Here at the club though, it didn’t matter. She would never register on Matthew’s radar because she was already too old.
She watched those young, imperfect girls, who had fun and were simultaneously arrogant and insecure about their ability to attract boys, their clothes that might be trendy but not yet their own style. They were more beautiful and desirable in their awkwardness than Corey could ever dream of being, no matter how fetching her clothes, how perfect her figure, how far she advanced in her career. They possessed something she had lost—exactly when had she lost it?—that lack of awareness, that damning self-consciousness, when you know you are not invincible, but that you must perfect the art of appearing invincible.
She felt Matthew watching her. “Is she here?”
“Yeah, she’s here.”
“Where’d you two meet?”
“I met her at school.”
“How long have you been with your girlfriend?” she asked.
“A little over a year.”
Corey nodded. She knew then that if she wanted Hayden, she would be the one who would have to make the first move. It was a strange power, knowing that she could have him if she wanted him, the power she had in not having yet lived her life, the chance to do things differently.
She met Matthew’s gaze. “You’re an attractive guy. I thought that, the first time I saw you. I don’t know why I didn’t see it when I was your age.” Back then, she wouldn’t have looked twice. It wouldn’t have occurred to her that his type was one she could be drawn to. “I better go and find my friends. Thanks for indulging an older woman in conversation. Yeah,” Corey smiled, cutting Matthew off when he opened his mouth to speak. “You thought I was twenty-eight. That’s okay. Just wish me a happy birthday.”
