Typical Day
Tru Love starts her day early at the gym, where she works out with Hans, her personal trainer. They do lunges, squats, and run the trails behind her Hollywood Hills home. It's important for Tru to look good for her clients—after all, she can't expect them to listen to her advice if she doesn't take care of herself.
Tru has been making matches professionally for over thirty years, though she doesn't look a day over twenty-nine (give or take) thanks to a healthy diet, exercise, Botox, and a few minor adjustments made by her local Beverly Hills plastic surgeon (she gets a special "Friends and Family" discount because she hooked him up with his third wife).
As she's working out, Hans confides in her that he's tired of the single life—there are too many ditzy cheerleaders and one-night stands for his liking. He wants Tru to fix him up.
"Well, the first thing you need to do is not lead with your muscles. You need to show some of your sensitive side, not all this 'I'm all that' persona. You need to be all about what she's into, not yourself."
"What makes you think I'm not doing that already?" says Hans.
"For starters, your personalized license plate that says IMSOHOT might be a tip off; and I never see you with a shirt on. I mean jeez, we all know you have a six pack, you don't have to flaunt it all the time."
"But when I see you, we're working out. I'm training you. It's my job."
"So you mean to say you dress differently when you go meet girls?"
"Ummmmm," Hans mutters, stalling.
"Where do you meet most of your dates anyway?" Tru asks.
"The gym," confesses Hans.
"See, there you go. You need to lead with your intellect. If I fix you up with one of my girls, I expect you to buy a suit, or at least a nice sports jacket. Take her to a nice dinner or something cultural. Get to know her. The kind of girl I'd set you up with would be a professional, like a lawyer or a doctor. Can you handle a woman making more money than you?"
"Absolutely," says Hans.
"Are you sure?" Tru asks.
"What about an athletic woman?" Hans asks.
"An athletic woman doesn't want a personal trainer for a husband. She wants a tech mogul or the head of a Fortune 500 company. Besides, I thought you just said you were tired of shallow girls you meet in the gym. How about trying something different for a change."
"You're the boss," says Hans. "Now give me 200 push-ups."
Tru was hoping Hans had forgotten that they were in the middle of their training session.
"Um, I'm gonna have to cut it short, Hans. I have a client waiting in my office. Come show me what clothes you purchased the next time we have a session. I think we're booked for Wednesday."
"Should we do a swap for services?" asks Hans.
"What? Oh no, I charge way more than you do, buddy. But since you're a friend, the first consultation is on the house. It'll give you some time to earn the money to book me for the year."
After Tru gets showered and changed into her favorite Trina Turk dress and Manolo Blahnik heels, she heads out to her office in Beverly Hills.
When she arrives, her assistants are already hard at work sifting through profiles of women who want to be added to their database who will be matched with clients. Tru's company gets hundreds of these a week and it takes a few full-time staff members just to weed through them all.
Tru looks over the ones who have been deemed acceptable and decides whether they're in, out, or to ask for more information. If she is thinking of matching someone up with one of her executive clients, she calls the woman in for a grueling two-hour interview. She will ask everything from how she handles herself on a date to whether she rolls the toilet paper fold side in or out.
After spending several hours on the phone with clients and going through the new women to be added to her database, Tru meets with Prince Johann, a Norwegian Royal with a penchant for wearing pink that she is trying to butch up for his date.
Tru picks through the wardrobe choices Prince Johann has brought for her to go through. Half the clothes are in a shade of pink or lavender. She warned the Prince about these colors; he just doesn't have the physique to pull it off.
Exasperated, Tru gives up and calls in her stylist to help the Prince come up with a new look.
Then Tru coaches him on what to say during his date: Make sure to make eye contact and ask about what she likes to do. Be a good listener, don't spend the whole night talking about yourself, and please don't mention that year you spent in a Hungarian gulag. Nobody needs to know about that anymore. It's old news.
Tru gives the Prince a sheet of paper with the reservations for the restaurant where he will be taking Donna Tella, his date for the evening.
"Can I see a picture of what she looks like," he asks.
"No," says Tru. "She's pretty. Cute. Just what you want. You're just gonna have to trust me. That's why you're paying me, after all," she says.
The Prince reluctantly agrees. "You're the expert," he says as he exits.
Tru's assistant shows in the next client. It's Phil, a twenty-five year old tech billionaire from Silicon Valley who is looking for a wife.
"Aren't you a little young to be looking for a wife?" Tru asks. "Don't you want to play the field?"
"I don't have time for such things," Phil answers. "If I want to have five kids before I'm too old to play with them, I need to get started now. Oh yeah, and I want my wife to be at least five years older than me."
"Older, that's strange. Usually, men want younger."
"Well, I want older. And it needs to be someone who will appreciate my Star Wars and Star Trek collections, who will go to movies with me, who can speak at least three different languages fluently and who can make macaroni and cheese the way I like it," he says. "I'm willing to pay extra for that last part."
Tru has seen it all. Now she has to ask about macaroni and cheese cooking abilities on her database questionnaire. Great.
"I'm sure we can find you what you want," says Tru, collecting a check for $25,000. This'll cover the pool cabana she's been wanting built...and a new pair of shoes to add to her collection. Life is good, she thinks. Thank goodness for the endless supply of singles in this city.