Yesterday Marianne looked into the mirror five minutes longer then usual. She looked longer because she saw something new. Though the same beauty as always. But...
But a bit older. And still alone. Not alone, like in the long nights, this being solved by often visits to the local bar usually after the midnight, and finding there a drinking and bedding partner. This part of her life was always crowded.
No. Alone, like coming from the work to the empty home. Alone, like not finding anybody with whom she didn't drink yesterday. Alone, like feeling alone. You know, you can be with somebody, but feel totally alone. Even during making satisfaction sounds, you could feel being the only alive person in the whole world. Marianne didn't want to feel alone. She had to do something about it. But what?
Turning to the left, she saw a cursor blinking-winking to her: "Did you think to use me?"
"Hmmm. It could be good. I could use it really."
Was Marianne persuading herself to come to the computer or justifying hr immediate decision to do it? It doesn't matter. But when she stopped to think about it, she saw on the screen "Pay 10$ and you can immediately find your love. Just for the cost of two lousy-expensive cups of coffee, if you are Cinderella or if you are not, you can meet the Prince Charming."
Did Marianne typed her way through to this site? She didn't remember. She looked on the "Prince Charming part", her mind stuck still on the "10$" part. She hoped her mind won't see it, and pressed "Pay" button. Then the next button and the next until "Now you can have him" appeared on the screen.
Her mind just understood the trick Marianne played on it and was swearing because of her mindlessness. Her heart throbbed hard. She felt her cheeks hot. "Prince Charming, here I come ..."
It took her three hours and a half to end the task of giving all the information the site demanded. Write about yourself, your salary, your education. How do you look like. And now, how do you really look like. What do you want in men, and in women (were they working simultaneously on all possibilities?) and what is more important and what is less.
She finished and felt herself empty inside. Marianne poured herself onto the Internet questionnaires of the site that promised the gold and the silver of finding the best guy for everybody. But now she felt worried. Now she had to meet a man who is her "perfect" match. How will it be?
.
It was awful. Yes, he is beautiful. What's his, is his. But it's the only good thing he has. Dolls could be beautiful too. But not so boring. And dolls don't look in the mirror every five minutes. Well, this Prince Charming isn't charming at all. Like all eleven before him ...
.
Peter was different. She understood it from the beginning, when instead of meeting her near her flat, he told her to meet him in the pub. And then, when she came, his sour smile showed her that the evening will be deader than the graveyard in the moonless night.
But when she splashed the drink on him for the "dirty" suggestion and he stopped to look at her for some time, she felt lost. She was sure, Peter should shout and be angry, but he suddenly became silent, put a 20$ bill on the bar, went out, throwing "bye" to her.
She felt mixed up. He didn't behave as she thought he should. It intrigued her. She ran after him.
"Please, Peter, why didn't you shout at me?"
"Would it help? Would you hate me less?"
"But I don't hate you?"
"No? Then what your hating would be like?" He smiled. She couldn't resist it and laughed.
.
The love came as a wind through the desert, raising sandy dust in air, making all sense of reality and orientation lost. But when the dust cloud of the first burst of love settled down, they understood that two days or two years, nothing will be different. They understood that they knew each other enough to decide to marry.
.
They didn't care to fly to Vegas. It was quick and easy. And two hours later they were in the room with organ playing music, waiting for their turn to marry.
Suddenly Marianne's phone rang. A second later, Peter's phone rang too. But it was their turn and they both put phones on the bench in the far part of the room. They ran forward to become a couple. Marianne and her Prince Charming Peter.
And back there, two phones with faces one to another were getting the same written message from the matchmaking site: "Please disregard the last contact we sent you. Due to some computer glitch, instead of the 'best' match, you got the 'worst' match contact. Sorry for the mistake."
This is so funny and so true...even tho it's sad as well... I met my partner on the internet...and I've met many wonderful, kind and good men on the internet as well... marriage could be had easily...money too... but I am too old fashioned... so... However...I do agree with this writing... for the most part that is! hehe... hugs, lindalaw
That will serve the schmucks! nobody marries anymore! what with pre-contracts, mine is mane and yours is ours, and don't forget that penalty the mothers in law attached to every "yes, I do" and...
Well, this was supposed to be a review, but I wish to tell the fellows, don't buy a ring, buy one of those "you can do it" sneakers and RUN!!!
This is your journal, for your writing. An interactive journal with historical tidbits designed to nurture creativity and self-motivation, features one side for drawings, sketches, or pasting personal pictures, and the other side lined for notes or j
An alcoholic, miserly attorney reluctantly defends a black man from a false resisting arrest charge. He then discovers damaging information against the cops and two cronies, and embarks on a battle to keep himself and his client alive.
