‘Not Marriage Material’ – Submission 9: The Gameshow by Maximilian Sam

Not Marriage Material is an upcoming anthology of non fiction and poetry – submissions are currently open. More information can be found here.

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The Gameshow by Maximilian Sam

The music plays as the dulcet tones of Lyn Lapid ring out, singing: “Do you really want to fall in love? Do you really want to settle down?”
The host bounds across the studio, encouraging the audience to get involved before breaking into his opening speech:

“Welcome to another edition of Not Marriage Material. It’s your weekly insight into the minds of those who’d love a life partner, but find disaster at every turn. There are always a plethora of reasons some people end up alone. It can be anything from never putting the toilet seat down, to only being attracted to psychopaths and everything else in between.”
“As you know, we give each of our contestants four opportunities to spend time with a potential partner. If it works, we pay for the wedding! We’ve never failed yet. What makes this episode poignant is that Chris is back for his record fourth appearance. If we can’t do it this time, he’ll only be back in a few months to collect the mystery prize we hoped nobody would ever see. We haven’t even decided what it is yet, as we were so confident in our matchmaking abilities. There’s going to be some anxious times and biting of fingernails in the production office, as we wait to see if, this time, we can strike gold.”
“So, without further ado, let’s introduce our returning bachelor. It’s crowd-, but not ladies’ favourite: Chris.”

Cheering and clapping breaks out amongst the studio audience as Chris slowly drags his feet onto the stage. He’d already decided never to drink alcohol again. That lonely night he’d opened the extra bottle of wine haunted him. What, other than a good bottle of Chablis, had possessed him to apply for this charade? His whole lonely life was now being played out in front of the nation. People didn’t feel sorry for him or empathise—they were laughing at him. Had he really been so desperate not to be alone that he’d destroyed any semblance of pride he could have had in anything in his life? He’d even stopped looking at the internet, as his face seemed to form the basis of every meme he saw. He’d gone from being a touch lonely to broken and depressed all because he’d had an extra bottle of wine and applied to this dreadful gameshow. Those old words from his grandfather came back to haunt him, “Be careful what you wish for.” What he wouldn’t give now to be curled up on his sofa with a glass of wine watching a movie rather than being the centre of attention on the mind-numbing box in the corner.

“How are you doing this time, Chris?” asked the host. “Remember to keep it clean.” He added with a wink to the audience, gaining the pathetic titters he was hoping for, even though they’d dub raucous laughter on in the editing suite afterwards.
Chris knew the expletives he wanted to use, but, by some odd quirk, this was deemed a family show.

“Yeah, I’m ok. I’m more pre-occupied with what colour to paint the bathroom than with being here, to be honest.” He whispered.
“Ha ha, ever the sharp wit. How are you still single? I’d even marry you myself.”
“Only so you don’t have to dream up a mystery prize.”
“Ouch. He’s on form tonight. Is this going to be the lucky night?”

Chris hoped the disdain wasn’t showing on his face as the bile rose in his throat. He was bored with people making fun of the fact he was single. He didn’t actually care. The single life had its advantages.
The odd bout of loneliness was a small price to pay. Maybe the issue was that he just didn’t want to be married and have to compromise on every little thing. He was set in his ways and he rather liked the way he went about tackling the monotony of life. Sadly, a single life wasn’t something society understood. Then again, society didn’t understand him, anyway. His career choices, desire to travel the world, and contentment with sitting in the pub with a pint and a good book confounded almost everyone he met. There was a distinct possibility he really was non-marriage material.

“As this is our last chance to find your life partner, we should probably have a recap,” announced the overly made-up, toupee-wearing host. “Let’s look at your description of your ideal woman. When you first came on the show, these were the things you said you were looking for:
1. Slim with long hair,”
That’s the host ruled out, thought Chris nastily. He had no hair beneath the hedgehog he’d glued to his
head.
“2. Intelligent with a high-ranking job.
3. Independent enough not to need 24 hour companionship.
4. Able to laugh at the absurdity of the world wherever the latest trip has taken them, and
5. her father owns a brewery.
We assumed the last one was a joke. We may have been mistaken!”
Chris saw the ego dripping from a man making money presenting a show based on other people’s insecurities.
The whole thing reminded him of the bullying he’d received at school. He’d never forgotten the day another pupil had walked up to him and said, “You’re the ugliest boy in school.” Chris now had his image on the front cover of a book; admittedly it was his own book. Who’s ugly now?
Maybe that was the moment the damage had been done. He’d never be good enough for anyone else. He was always going to be too ugly. It’s amazing how cruel kids can be, and how impressionable.

“Let’s take a look back at the three women we thought you’d connect with and find out where you think it went wrong. First up, we have Jane. Long hair, slim, very smart. We thought almost perfect. What didn’t work?”
That was the problem. It worked. They were almost perfect for each other. The issue lay in the word almost. There’s no such thing as perfection. Instead of focusing on the 90% that was everything he wanted, Chris had seen the 10% that didn’t fit. She was still his benchmark. With her, it truly was himself that was the problem.
“I don’t know. I think I messed that one up. She was amazing. I got scared and ran away. At least it didn’t make me move to a different country that time. Maybe I didn’t deserve her. My bank balance didn’t allow me to shower her with the gifts she deserved.”
“So you couldn’t shower her with gold?” Even the audience sniggered. Chris was glad he didn’t have a gun. He’d put them all out of their misery, where being in the audience of this pitiful gameshow was one of the highlights of their lives. That’s not life. It’s purgatory.

“Onto number two, Sarah. Again she ticked the boxes. She was even happy to sail the world with you. How could that go wrong?”
“I was bored. If all I was interested in was physical contact, it was amazing. Conversation was clearly an optional extra.”
“That was a challenge then?”
“Oh, come on. Even my friends started commenting I’d only bought the two-seater convertible so she could look good without me having to listen to her. She was stunning to look at, but that was the only connection. If I’d been setting up an art gallery, she’d have been the centrepiece. But I wasn’t.”
“That’s sad. It proves looks aren’t everything.” The host should know, thought Chris. The mask of make-up undoubtably hid a lot underneath.
“I suppose that means we are tied at one-all on the fault stakes here. Onto number three. Sadly, I know this was a disaster.”
“Two-one to you on fault. First, she was already married, but hadn’t told anyone. Second, on our third date at the oldest restaurant in London, I didn’t expect to be left to have the main course on my own.
The police arrived during the starters and arrested her. She’s now serving time at His Majesty’s pleasure for attempting to murder her husband. It wasn’t just a disaster, it was a total mess and a lack of any form of research on your part. You put me in mortal danger.”

The television studio was suddenly silent. This was gold. They’d invited a psychopath onto the show.
Programmes have been cancelled for less. This one wouldn’t survive either, but, having made himself a laughing stock, Chris would not walk away with nothing. The world may not have fulfilled all his dreams, but it had given him a lot in return for his efforts. He wasn’t unhappy being single and leading his own life. His only aggravation was people continually asking him if he was married. He knew they were trying to be nice, but it was tiresome seeing the looks of pity on their faces when he said no. He would not let the ignominy he’d been through happen to anyone else. He also wanted the cash he knew he’d win in the unknown mystery prize.
“Ok, the last one was all our fault. I don’t know how we got it so wrong,” said the host, trying desperately to get things back on track. Chris could imagine the frantic screaming in his ear from the production booth. The truth had caused panic, especially as they’d agreed before the show not to reveal the genuine reasons behind number three failing.

“We’re going to put things right this time. We have a woman who ticks every box. It’s even better than your list because she owns a brewery! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the amazing Vicky.”
The applause rippled around the studio. The audience was still processing the news of the murderous psychopath they’d watched on their screens a few short weeks ago.
Oh joy, thought Chris. They don’t get it. If someone was prepared to come on television in front of the nation to have their character dissected for all to see, they’d never be the one for him. His life had been spent in the shadows. It suited him. He didn’t need or want fame. He didn’t want a famous partner, either. The reality was he just wanted someone to snuggle on the sofa with watching one of his beloved Ealing comedies. If she liked his cooking and a glass or two of decent wine, that would do. Was it really too much to ask?

Vicky walked on stage. She was certainly stunningly good looking, but Chris knew immediately she wasn’t for him. There was something about the way she walked and held herself. He’d done what he always did. He’d looked at the negatives. The positives never had a chance. It was the moment he knew he’d never be married. He had a false sense of what it meant and who he was as a person. The spotlight had finally lit the dark corners of his mind to reveal who he really was. He smiled to himself as he realised he actually quite liked himself. A television show would never give him what he was really looking for. A partner who cared, went to watch the rugby with him, didn’t mind a houseful of dogs, and could laugh like a drain at the funny things in life. They’d all got him as wrong as he’d got himself. He’d had perfection in his grasp so many times and somehow let it go, thinking he needed something different. He could smile at the regret, but still had to accept he was going to have to live with his own stupidity.

Chris walked off stage with his head held high. The gameshow hadn’t given him what he expected. It had given him a lot more. They could keep their pointless mystery prize. He didn’t want it. The production assistant, who’d always been at the side of the stage helping him in any way she could, looked at him with a questioning glance, followed by a knowing smile.
“She’s not for you, is she? Your Mum can put her wedding hat away again!”
“Nope, she isn’t, and yes, Mum can let the dust start gathering on the hat again.”
“I told them. They wouldn’t listen. Shall we ditch this lot and go to the pub and get drunk?”
“That’s the best idea anyone’s shared with me in months.”
Chris looked at Zoe, the production assistant. He’d nearly missed it in the bright lights and plastic facade of the disaster of a gameshow. She’d been standing in front of him, supporting him all this time. Time would tell whether she was the one. If not, Chris was sure they were going to have fun finding out. Maybe that’s all any of us ever needs. The mystery prize had been worth the wait.

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Author Bio – Maximilian Sam

Maximilian Sam is the award-winning author of It’s A Stray Dog’s Life, It’s A Stray Dog’s Life 2, and Stories From A Stray. He is also the creator of the Stray Army brand of merchandise. He’s a confirmed stray, having lived in 10 countries around the world ranging from the UK to Indonesia and a few in between. He currently lives on the west coast of Turkey surrounded by his stray dogs and cats. Max has never been married, so can lay claim to being something of an expert in not marriage material. You can find out more about Max, the stray animals, the Stray Army brand, and plenty of PR and marketing advice by visiting his website at www.maximiliansam.com.