It was high tide at the Octagon, a sunken ship that had been converted into a bar for octopus speed dating mixers. This highly profitable business venture was the brainchild of a local mafia of sea horses who were tuned into the rumour among the reef that octopuses are, ahem, [[attentive lovers]].
Dedicating a bar to meeting and greeting my eight limbed brethren has been attracting hordes of both fellow octopuses and octophiles alike from all corners of the sea.
But tonight would be [[my]] first night at the [[Octagon->love]].
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</style>Walking into the Octagon reminded me of the first time I stumbled into a swarm of moonfish; all these bodies wound tightly together, dancing some choreography I'd never been taught.
A group swordfish were playing darts with their noses. The sea horse mafia were all clustered at the bar with a deflated pufferfish, probably their hired muscle. Octopuses were all sitting in twos at tables across the room, mostly paired with another of their own kind. Occasionally a different species of fish would be seated across from [[them]].
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</style>A coral pink octopus was floating in front of me, wearing a sticker that read "Hello, my name is Sue".
"H-Hi," I stuttered.
"What's your name?" She asked, with a pad of stickers in one tentacle, and a pen in the other.
"Larry, but I don't think I'll be stay-" My voice trailed off as she stuck a sticker on me.
"Larry, I think there's someone at table number three who would love to meet [[you]]."
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</style>[[Regretting]] every choice I'd [[ever]] made [[ever->sea turtle]] that brought me here, I slowly swam over to table three.
A purple octopus with long tentacles was already seated when I got there.
"Hey there....Larry" She squinted to read my sticker.
"Hi... Cynthia. How are [[you->u]]?"
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</style>Maybe if I'd been on a sports team instead of the chess team in school, I wouldn't be trying to [[speed date->you]].
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</style>I should have spent tonight practicing my [[calligraphy->you]].
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</style>Why couldn't I have grown into less of an awkward [[sea turtle->you]]?
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</style>"Ooh a questions [[game]], I like it. Well, I love to read poetry most nights, and curl up with Edgar, my catfish." She looked at me intently.
"That sounds nice, who is your favorite poet?" I was starting to feel like this night wouldn't be as [[bad]] as I thought.
"Listen, Larry, it's called speed dating for a reason. I've got questions for you, too. Let's get this show on the [[road->though]]."
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</style>How is this a [[game->free time]]?
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</style>"Um ok. What do you want to know about me?"
She stirred the straw in her glass, though her drink had long since floated away.
"Well, how soon do you plan on having [[kids]]?"
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</style>I gulped. This was not an unfamiliar stumbling block with dating female octopus for me.
"Well you know, for me, kids aren't the be all end all. I'd really like to find an [[alternative way]] to lead a fulfilling life."
Cynthia's eyes flashed and her tentacles retracted as she pulled back from the table.
"Ugh, here I thought you were different, but I should have known. Let me guess, all you want is a quick hookup, [[no strings attached]]?"
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</style>"Oh, no... It's really not that, I swear. I am looking for someone to spend my life with, you know. I'm not even looking for a hookup at all. I..."
She laughed, but her tentacles clenched up in anger.
"Oh yeah? Listen, you can be straight with me. I've heard a few variations now. But apparently, all men are just after [[one thing]]."
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</style>"Er, well, you know, it's not uncommon for male octopuses to die after doing... well, [[you know...->Sea Cucumber]] So it'd be kind of strange if that's all we're after... I have a hard time seeing why any man would agree to it at all, to be honest."
Cynthia looked unimpressed.
"It's also just that, well, because male octopuses tend to die after... [[you know...->Eel]] I grew up without a dad and that was really tough! If I had a kid, I would want to be there for them, you know?"
She looked at me blankly, the way most female octopuses did whenever the subject of children [[came up]].
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</style>"That's why mothers live longer. To take care of them. Men aren't supposed to be there for their kids. That's just the circle of life. That's..." Cynthia looked around the bar.
"That's why [[we're all here]]."
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</style>[[Ding!]]
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</style>Cynthia started to swim away.
"Wait, why are you leaving?" I asked her.
"The bell means it's time to switch. Besides, I'm not [[wasting my time->times]] with someone who doesn't want kids."
She swam over to table number four. I stayed put, feeling too dejected to move.
"Well hello... [[Larry]]!"
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</style>A dolphin was now in Cynthia's place at table number three.
"Hello..." I squinted trying to read his name tag.
"Damien. Sorry, I have terrible handwriting. Flippers aren't so great for holding pens. Not like tentacles, anyway."
I laughed.
"Oh no worries. Nice to meet you, [[Damien]]."
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</style>"So, how is your night going so far?" Damien asked.
"Ah, to be honest, not so great," I said, still feeling a bit stung from how Cynthia had left things.
"Oh? How so?" Damien asked, bubbles emerging through his blowhole.
"Well, I've only had one date so far, but she was pretty disappointed that I, um, don't want kids." I watched Damien carefully.
"Oh jeez, man, that blows. I can't believe she popped the kids question within five minutes of meeting you."
I breathed a small sigh of [[relief]].
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</style>"Yeah, it was a bit soon," I said, [[relaxing my tentacles slightly]].
"Um, yeah, way too soon. It's also just so frustrating when people don't realize there's more to life than having kids!"
[[My hearts skipped a beat]].
"Yeah, or just how some people can completely write you off because kids aren't part of your plan. As if none of the other parts of you could make up for that [[void]]," I said, [[still watching]] Damien.
He started to nod, excitedly.
"Yeah, yeah, exactly! Hey-" He leaned in [[closer]].
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</style>It's so nice to hear someone else admit how weird all this [[was->relief]].
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</style>Maybe Damien likes [[crosswords->relief]]?
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</style>"I dig you. I dig your vibe." Damien's eyes [[twinkled]].
"I, um- I think you're... you're really cool, too," I stuttered.
Damien [[laughed]].
"You wanna get out of [[here]]?"
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</style>Who knew dolphins could be so [[charming->closer]]?
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</style>It sounds like [[bells->closer]].
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</style>"Desperately," I laughed.
"But, um, where would we go?" I asked him.
"Well," he leaned in [[closer still]], whispering.
"I know this spot just outside the reef... It's private. We'd be all alone... and," he touched one of my tentacles with the tip of his nose.
"You can show me what these can do. I've heard all kinds of things."
[[My hearts sank through the floor]].
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</style>"Oh. I see." [[I pulled back a bit]].
"Aww, what's the matter? Don't you want to have fun?" Damien's eyes were still sparkling but they weren't meeting mine.
"I... it's just not really what I'm looking for. I'm sorry," I said, looking away.
Damien frowned.
"But I thought you weren't looking for anything serious. Not like all the other folks who are just here to make babies," Damien said, intonating as if it was a question.
"Oh no... I am looking for someone to share my life with... just not... Well, I'm not interested in, um. [[You know]]."
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</style>"Like at all? Damien asked. He looked confused.
"Um, no, not really," I mumbled.
Damien crinkled his bottlenose, pausing for moment before speaking.
"Huh... well... listen, I guess... let me know if you ever decide to [[loosen up->Bell]]."
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</style>"Listen," he said. "Do you mind being the one to leave? I'm a little tired of swimming from table to table and having it be a [[waste of time->Believe]]."
"Sure..." I said, quietly.
I scanned the bar, and spotted an empy table in the back. I swam over there to sit for a moment [[alone]].
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</style>I sat for a moment, alone with my [[anxieties]].
Before a tiny voice interrupted my [[thoughts]].
"[[Hey!]]"
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</style>I'm going to die [[alone->alone]].
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</style>I will never be worthy of [[love->alone]].
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</style>"Are you ignoring me?"
I looked down to see a small starfish on the table. A sticker that read "Hello, my name is Frankie" covered most of its body.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there."
"Oh ok. It's been fifty fifty all night whether people were ignoring me or just weren't seeing me. And, usually once they see me, they just ignored me anyway."
"Oh, why would they [[ignore you]]?"
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</style>"Well, half the fish here seem to be looking for a quick hookup. If we're being realistic, I'm not anatomically equipped to be a very active partner in that. And even if I was, I just don't have that desire in any fibre of my being." Listening to Frankie speak stirred something inside me.
"The other half of the fish here are looking for someone to complete the circle of life with. As an asexual creature, the best I could do for them is chop my arm off and grow another me." Frankie paused.
"That was a [[joke]]."
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</style>I felt a pang in my [[hearts->joke]].
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</style>"Do you like crosswords?"
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</style><center>Submerged
<p>[[Play]]</p></center>
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</style>Storyteller/ Feminist/ Stardew Hobby Farmer
Kate just wants to make beautiful, weird art for lonely people.
Connect with her on twitter at @kmacmul for collaboration inquiries, updates on her weird life or just to say hi!Going for high tide swims on the beach maybe?
Or waking up to Sunday morning [[fish kisses->kids]]?
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</style>Playing hide the [[sea cucumber->one thing]].
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</style>Torpedoing the [[eel->one thing]].
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</style>Ugh, how is he being this [[cute->here]]?
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</style>What's wrong with me?
Why am I like [[this->My hearts sank through the floor]]?
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</style>[[Ding!->Listen]]
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</style>I've heard that [[before->Ding!]].
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</style>When you hear something often enough, you start to [[believe it->Listen]].
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</style>Could he understand [[me->relief]]?
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</style>What I am truly made of; sometimes I don't know.
The impulse to be near someone.
To feel their warmth.
I'm not sure I have it [[in me->relief]].
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</style>Silly [[me->free time]].
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</style>I like to think our reputation as a species comes from having three hearts.
I also like to imagine having three hearts means I could love someone three times as much as the next fish.
But it would seem that our reputations for being creatures of love have more to do with rumours about creative uses for our tentacles than our hearts or [[spirits->Play]].
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</style>I will admit that I have yet to be successful in endeavors of the hearts. I have been trying for quite some time to meet someone but it never seems to pan out for me the way I hope...
I don't meet people very often... I love to spend my evenings at home doing puzzles in the den... listening to long range whale songs... or feeling the ocean get warmer as it rains.
I like my solitude... but I want more. I want to take a chance on [[love->Play]].
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</style>Which is not what I'm looking for...
If I'm honest, I have no idea what I'm looking for...
Maybe a fish who doesn't mind that I'm shy...
Who looks at my eyes when I talk, not my tentacles...
Maybe a fish who likes [[crosswords->them]].
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</style>Seeing all these different fish paired off and chatting, some curled up close to one another, made me wonder about the stories that the Octagon is a place for [[quick hookups or wild dives]].
My hearts started to race and I considered swimming out the way I came.
"[[Hi!]]"
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</style>Being fetishized as an octopus is all too familiar.
All these expectations just based on my anatomy.
How am I supposed to find a fish that sees past [[that->u]]?
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</style>"Well, I'm glad to finally see a fellow octopus sitting across from me. Not another one of those octo-fetishizers," she replied, rolling her eyes.
“Do you know how many lewd pick-ups lines I’ve heard about my suckers tonight? Not to mention my beak?” She asked me, her eyes glinting.
“Our non-tentacled neighbors can be a bit insensitive sometimes,” I [[sighed]].
“Ugh, it’s absolutely ridiculous! It’s as if they think we’re just here to serve some twisted fantasy they’ve concocted!” Her tentacles curled and uncurled around [[her]].
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</style>"Yeah, like if we wanted to be exoticized, we'd volunteer to live in an aquarium," I scoffed.
"Exactly!" Cynthia exclaimed. She paused for a moment.
"It's nice to talk to someone about this. I've been feeling lonelier than when I first walked in the door tonight before you came along."
Cynthia ran one of her tentacles along the table edge, nervously.
"It's nice to be understood by a stranger." I said [[quietly]].
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</style>Cynthia laughed.
"You do seem strange." Her eyes were bright and focused on mine.
"I guess we should get on with the dating part of this speed dating thing and get to know each other a bit better," she said, leaning in closer.
"Oh... I guess so," I said, clearing my throat.
"What do you like to do in your [[free time]]?"
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</style>"Sorry," I said, blushing a little.
"I'm just not used to someone being so... open."
Frankie crawled a little closer; hundreds of his tiny feet contracting and relaxing across the table.
"The way I see it, I wasn't built for conventional love and there's no use hiding it. The other creatures here may see me as a [[waste of time]]... but that doesn't matter."
"It doesn't?" The words came out of my beak too fast and I kicked myself for asking such a [[dumb question]].
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</style>"Sorry, I-... What a stupid thing to say. I should just go." I started to pull away.
Frankie flapped his arms softly.
"It doesn't matter because people like me don't need anyone's understanding to exist. I... People like me have a lot give... You know?"
"I do," I whispered [[softly]].
We were quiet for a moment as [[the bar hummed with life around us->taking a look around the bar]].
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</style>To think, there are so many fish in the sea...
20,000 species of fish, to be [[exact->dumb question]].
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</style>As the night was waning, there were fewer fish in the bar. Those that had paired off were wound up intimately in one another's arms. Those that hadn't wore bored or sad expressions and stirred their drinks aimlessly.
Damien was sitting on the bar stool now; tangled up in an orange octopus' tentacles.
Cynthia was chatting with the sea horses' bodyguard, who was now puffed up in her prescence.
It seemed silly now to have come here expecting I might fit in with [[all these fish]].
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</style>And yet.
I looked back down at Frankie, who seemed lost in thought.
He looked so small on the table.
"[[Hey Frankie]]."
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