Monday, April 12, 2010

DON’T CALL ME, I’LL CALL YOU

LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): You’re dealing with relationship issues with a new determination — you might force your mate or kids to sit down and hear you out, or you might seek out a new partner through new means.

Laura’s Log:
So I’m suddenly single again and everyone else is coupled up. Well, not everyone. Mom couldn’t help herself, throwing out recommendations at brunch yesterday. It’s her view that the best way to get over a guy is to find another guy with due speed. Good thing Mom and Dad were high school sweethearts; otherwise, I think she may very well have been a dating slut.

She chimed in early. “I keep telling you that Betty Ng’s son is available. I don’t think he has a phone because of some charges he’s disputing, but why don’t you give his mother a call? She always says how cute you are.”

Marella stuffed a scone in her mouth to suppress the snicker. Betty Ng’s son—his name was Henry, wasn’t it?—was just the type to have an exorbitant Telus bill. Good bet he was a porn addict.

When I held firm with No Comment on Betty Ng’s son, Mom went back to her ol’ standby. “I don’t know why you ever broke up with Harvey Burns. You know he’s never gotten over you. I’m sure that’s why he’s getting divorced. Well, that and his wife’s nasty gambling habit. He’s broke and broken. Now’s your time to swoop in!”

And with that, Marella spit blackberry scone bits all over the table. Even Gretel had the sense to be repulsed.

After brunch, I checked voicemail. Nadia was inviting Gabriel and me to join Bradley and her for a night of bowling. It stung. I hated bowling. Who wants to put on clown shoes that a thousand people have already sweated in? I hated creepy, rude Bradley even more. Go figure that calling to say “No thanks” hurt so much. I should have been thanking Gabriel for sparing me a night of misery. Oh, there was still gloom—just on my own. It’s true what they say: misery loves company.

KEN’S JOURNAL:
B/F ONLINE DATING, THERE WERE THOSE PHONE CHAT GROUPS ADVERTISED ON LATE NITE TV. REMEMBER THE BLEACH BLONDES W/BIG BREASTS LYING SEDUCTIVELY ON A BED? “OOH, CALL ME. GIRLS LIKE ME ARE WAITING.” YEAH, RIGHT. SOME PREGNANT SINGLE MOM W/4 KIDS AND THREE FRONT TEETH KNOCKED OUT FROM A RECENT CAT FIGHT @ THE LOCAL BAR WAS GETTING PAID TO SAY THINGS LIKE, “OOH, I BUSTED ANOTHER VIBRATOR. THE THINGS JUST CAN’T KEEP UP WITH ME.”

WEB DATING SITES ARE A VARIATION ON THE SAME JOKE. GOTTA BE. I GET NO RESPONSES WHEN I SEND A WOMAN A MSG & NO ONE IS INITIATING THINGS W/ME. IF IT’S NOT A JOKE, THEN I’M EVEN MORE OF A LOSER THAN I THOUGHT.

HMM, MAYBE THERE’S JUST A DEFECT W/MY INBOX.

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