Meet Artie

Meet Artie, the “arranged marriage” toad, who Zeni is introduced to by Jimmy Spinozzi, a dear friend of her father’s. Zeni runs into Mr. Spinozzi one afternoon at which time he enquires about her personal life. Worried that Zeni is still single and going to get old without having children to care for her, Mr. Spinozzi decides to don his matchmaking hat and introduce her to Artie, a nice Italian boy according to Mr. Spinozzi’s description.

A few days later, Artie calls Zeni and introduces himself. After totally monopolizing the conversation, Artie asks Zeni out to dinner. Trying to remain optimistic that Mr. Spinozzi might find a second career as a matchmaker, Zeni agrees to have dinner with Artie.

Artie arrives at Zeni’s home promptly Friday evening, looking like the ultra-conservative Clark Kent compared with Zeni who is vamped up like the very sassy and somewhat saucy Lois Lane. They head to a beautiful bistro on the beach where Artie finally asks Zeni to tell him about her life, family, and interests.

What happens between Zeni and Artie during dinner that night? Has Mr. Spinozzi successfully orchestrated a match made in Heaven, or are Zeni and Artie more like oil and water that just do not mix well.

Find out more about Zeni’s escapade with the “arranged marriage” toad in chapter nine. Get ready to watch as Artie sticks his foot into his mouth on more than occasion.

Zeni meets Artie via the matchmaking efforts of Jimmy Spinozzi, a dear friend of her father’s, who is convinced she is nearing her expiration date for finding Prince Charming. Here is a scene from Zeni’s date with Artie:

“Would you like to order some wine?” Artie asked as I was midway through perusing the list of pinot noirs.

“Sure. How about a bottle of the 2007 Pommard Pinot Noir?” I replied, selecting one of the less expensive bottles. I didn’t know for certain if Artie was footing the bill all on his own or if we were going Dutch for the evening.

“A bottle of wine?

“Uh, let’s see. There are about four glasses of wine per bottle. That makes two glasses for each of us.”

“I apologize. I assumed you might not want to drink more than one glass, especially if you’re thinking about getting pregnant anytime soon,” he said, putting his foot in his mouth again.

Thank you very much, Artie, but I’m perfectly capable of making that kind of decision for myself, I thought, wanting to come across the table and personally shove Artie’s foot down his throat.

“I think I’ll just have the house cabernet,” I said, closing the wine list.