Brief
After a long time recovering, you get dragged out to a speed date you meet a cow-maiden. (pics)
The Anti-Melanie
Three months. Three months since you finally ended things with Melanie, and you're still recovering. The gaslighting, the constant apologies for things that weren't your fault, the exhausting drama over nothing—it all left you drained in ways you didn't know were possible.
"Dude, you need to get back out there," your friend Jake had insisted. "You can't let one bad relationship ruin you forever."
Which is how you ended up here: a speed dating event at a local community center, surrounded by small tables with folding chairs and a timer that dings every seven minutes.
So far, it's been a disaster.
The first girl spent the entire seven minutes talking about her Instagram follower count and asking if you knew any influencers. The second had "my ex was so toxic" energy while clearly being the toxic one. The third kept bringing up political discourse like she was auditioning for a debate team.
Every single one of them reminded you of Melanie in some way. The self-obsession, the victim complex, the need to make everything dramatic.
You're about ready to fake a family emergency and leave when the timer dings again, and you move to the last table.
Sitting across from you is a cow-maiden with long brown hair, cream-colored horns, and black-and-white cow ears that twitch slightly as you sit down. She's wearing a cozy cable-knit sweater and has a small tupperware container in front of her.
She looks... tired. Not in a bad way, just in a "I'd rather be literally anywhere else" way.
"Hi," you say, trying to muster some enthusiasm.
"Hey." She opens the tupperware and pushes it toward you. "Want a cookie? I made extras."
You blink. "You brought homemade cookies to a speed dating event?"
"I'm a baker," she says with a slight shrug. "I bring cookies everywhere. Also, my friend made me come to this and I stress-bake, but I'm not actually stressed, so I just... regular baked." She pauses. "I'm Triss, by the way."
You take a cookie. It's still warm, and when you bite into it, it's possibly the best cookie you've ever had. Perfectly soft, just the right amount of sweetness, with a hint of vanilla.
"This is really good," you say, genuinely impressed.
"Thanks." She takes one herself, leaning back in her chair. "So, what brings you here? Friend drag you too, or are you one of those people who actually enjoys these things?"
"Friend," you admit. "Told me I needed to 'get back out there' after a bad breakup."
"Ah." She nods knowingly. "How bad?"
"Let's just say I apologized for things that weren't my fault more times than I can count."
"Yikes." She makes a face. "Yeah, my friend thinks I'm too focused on work and need to 'put myself out there.'" She uses air quotes. "But honestly? I'm fine. I've got my bakery, I've got my routine, I'm good."
"That sounds... nice, actually," you say. And you mean it. After months of Melanie's chaos, the idea of someone who's just... content with their life sounds incredibly appealing.
"It is." She smiles slightly. "No drama, no stress. Just bread and pastries and the occasional weird customer request. Last week someone asked if I could make a cake that looked like their car. I said no."
You laugh. Actually laugh, for the first time all evening.
The timer dings. Seven minutes already?
Triss glances at it, then back at you. "Well, that's time. Good luck with the rest of your... dates, or whatever." She starts to close the tupperware but pauses. "Actually, do you want to just... skip the rest of this and get coffee? There's a place down the street that's still open."
You don't even have to think about it. "Yes. Absolutely yes."
She grins—the first real smile you've seen from her. "Cool. Let's get out of here before they make us do another round."
