Chapter 2: Searching for Miss Left

Most guys who are single and looking for a long-term relationship with a woman are looking for Miss Right. Not me. I was looking for Miss Left, for all the reasons I've already explained. It occurred to me that the best place to start was the Internet. I could place a cleverly worded advertisement on one of the personal sites and see what happened. It would cut down a bit on the trial-and-error part of finding a woman who at least fit my basic criteria.

It took longer to craft the advertisement than it did to write a week's worth of columns. At first it was too abrupt. Then too trite. Then it was too fuzzy. As much as I tried to inject a little humor into the script, I couldn't seem to get it to say exactly what I wanted it to say. In frustration, I contacted Rich.

"Buddy, I have a favor to ask," I said after the usual social opening.

"Fire away, man. I'm listening."

"I trying to compose an ad for a website that helps find compatible dates for miserable wretches like me. I'm having a hell of a time with getting the wording right."

"Uh huh, I can understand that. Not trying to give too much away, yet trying to hook the likely reader you want to respond, right?"

"Exactly. Can you help?"

"Hmmmm. Well, I have no vested interest in the success of your quest except to hope that you succeed beyond your wildest dreams," he chuckled. Rich always was the humorist.

"Yeah, I know, a fourth for bridge."

"Let me give it a try and I'll get back to you with a couple of options. You can tell me if I'm on the right track."

"Thanks, Rich. I really appreciate it. Say 'Hi' to Fiona for me."

"Will do. I'll e-mail you my demented thoughts."

"Yeah, sure. Good night, Rich."

Despite the off-handed response, I knew he'd put some thought into something and I hoped it would do the trick. Rich would think about both my needs and the needs of someone who might respond and try and find a link somewhere in the text. I was hopeful.

It was the next evening before I got an e-mail response from him. I looked over the two suggested ads and nearly phoned him to rip him a new one. I didn't though. I sat back and read them again and began to see some method to his madness. He knew me well and somehow, with his quirky sense of humor, he had found a way to get the attention of the unusual kind of woman that I would be looking for. Bimbos need not apply.

Being a good deal more conservative than Rich, I chose the second one, wondering if it would elicit any responses at all, and if it did, what kind of woman it would attract. What the hell, my name wasn't on the ad and I wasn't worried about being ridiculed by anyone other than Rich and maybe Fiona, so I might as well take a chance.

I wasn't prepared for the responses I did get. A lot of responses. They were as goofy as my ad, but that wasn't a surprise.

Hey, studly. How big is your dick? Send me a picture. What's with the lefty bridge player shit? What do you write? Porn? Are 44D's big enough? Let me know. Ballbreaker@Michcorrections.com

Hi. I'm Pussy Galore. I'm 27 and my friends tell me I'm real sexy. I could learn to play bridge. I swing both ways, so left-handed is no problem. Send me a picture so I know you're not some troll. PGalloway@Wilcom.net

Hi studly writer. I'm 34 and looking for love. My friends say I'm real cute even if I am a little overweight. I don't play bridge but I do play house, tee hee. I'm open to a serious relationship ... or any kind of relationship really. I'd like to hear from you. Sandy75@Garble.org

I waded through them one at a time and saved the ones I might follow up on and deleted the others. By the time I'd waded through the fifty odd replies, I had saved eleven of the responses. There are some very strange people out there. I tried to select only the sane-sounding ones but even then, I wasn't sure what I was letting myself in for.

I sat back and thought about what to do next. I wanted to see pictures of these women to at least weed out the ones that I wouldn't want to be seen with in public. After that, I would need a strategy to decide where next to go with my quest. All the while, of course, I was still going to work each day and so the entire process was left to my evenings and weekends.

I set up my digital camera on a tripod, put it on ten second delay, and took a picture of myself. I had a black Lone Ranger style mask that I used at a Halloween party a couple of years ago and put it on, hopefully to avoid recognition if by chance one of the respondents knew me. I took a couple of pictures with me wearing a navy blue t-shirt and jeans. I tried a pose with my hands on my hips and then with my hands in my pockets, but went with the first option when I saw the results.

I sent a short e-mail with my picture attachment out with a request from each of the eleven to return a current photo of theirs. I was using a new mail address on Yahoo, along with a pen name, leftyscribe. Yeah, I know, not very original. Interestingly, I only got eight replies and only six of them included a picture. Two more disqualified.

A couple of the pictures were very explicit and I dumped them from the candidates. It wasn't that they didn't have a nice body, I just didn't need to see all of it before we were even introduced. That left me with four women. I went over their responses and photos and decided to make contact with them. I sent KittyKat an e-mail giving her some more of my personal details and suggesting she use Skype to contact me during the evening hours. I had updated my Skype account with the photo I had sent them and waited for a reply.

There was no guarantee that KittyKat had Skype, but it was a free download and it would give us an opportunity to talk and maybe even see each other on line without giving away any personal information. My laptop had a built-in camera and with luck, she might have one as well.

KittyKat called about eight o'clock that evening and I was pleased that she did have a camera so that we could communicate visually.

"Hi ... are you leftyscribe?" she asked cautiously.

"That's me, but why don't you call me Will and I'll call you Kitty, if that's okay?"

"Yeah. Sure. So, you look okay," she said, still being very careful. "At least you look like the picture you sent."

"You do too, Kitty. So tell me about yourself."

"Uhhm ... well ... I have a job, I live in Midland, I rent an apartment with another girl, I'm 34, divorced, no kids. You can see I look okay. What else?"

"Well, for me, being left-handed is a big thing. Are you?"

"Uhhm ... no, actually. I thought that was something you were just kidding about."

"No ... in fact ... it's a deal-breaker, sorry to say. You're quite attractive, Kitty. I'm sure you'll find a guy who's right for you, but I'm not him. Sorry."

"Yeah. Me too. You sound like an okay guy. Some of the guys who are looking for women are real creeps."

"I'll bet. Well, you be careful now. Protect yourself and be as sure as you can be before you let them get to see you live and in person."

"Yeah, thanks. Sorry it didn't work out," she said, sounding genuinely regretful.

Well, one down, three to go. Who's next?

"Hi steadfast, this is leftyscribe. Too bad you don't have a camera on your computer so we could see each other live."

"Actually, I do have a webcam. I just didn't turn it on."

"How come?"

"I'm nervous. I don't know you and I don't want to take any unnecessary chances."

"Okay, I can understand that. But here's something to consider. You could be anywhere in the world and I wouldn't know where. I don't know your name, so I can't look you up. That gives you some protection."