The Personals, Pt. 3

I read her response, “Hey Michael, I noticed you noticing my personal ad. What did you think? Judith.” I wasn’t sure which felt worse, that the love of my life was pining for a date with a complete stranger the day after breaking up with me, that I was the complete stranger, or that I’d just compromised the space/time continuum and the universe was starting to implode upon itself. My head began throbbing. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for that, so the best thing would be to pull my ad immediately.

“Hey Judith, thanks for the holler. Your personal ad was dynamite. You have a lot of great qualities and I think you express yourself real good.” Hey, wait a minute. I was supposed to be a successful Jewish dentist here. Play it down, play it down! I was confused by all the pretense. I was like the Bush administration in Iraq: I knew how to go in but had no idea how to get out without causing collateral damage. I’d become bogged down in my own bogus personal ad quagmire. “I liked your ad, but my gut tells me that we’re just not a match. Keep trying, though, I know that the guy for you is out there. Maybe he isn’t as tall or financially secure as I am. Maybe he even drives a late model economy car like a Honda Civic. It could be silver, who knows? There are great guys like that out there. You should really think about giving one of them a second ch… I mean… a chance. Sincerely, Michael.”

I ended it there and of course never clicked on the send button. Now I had a headache and a stomach ache. I might be crazy, but even I have my limits. I’m glad that I came to my senses and deleted my profile before my credit card was charged. Sometimes it’s wiser to sit with the pain and not do anything about it.

©  Rob Fiedler, 2007

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