I just can’t help myself. It’s just too easy. A shiver never fails to find its way through my spine as I enter in the address into my browser. I almost feel guilty; almost, but why lambaste myself over ideas of such inconsequence. These women need me, they are not aware of this yet, but soon it will be revealed to them. Entering in my password, the excitement mounts. Who will be my choice today? Perhaps Chicka_715, intelligent, fun, and energetic, sound like the kind of women most men would adore. Or maybe Lyzard964, fun and spontaneous, an animal lover nonetheless, perhaps she will be my pick.

I continue to scan, painstakingly deconstructing each sentence of each profile for a glimpse at the women within. There is an art to the interpretation of these short but telling descriptions, one must know how to read between the lines. For instance, I can clearly see that Christy_78 is compensating for her romantic shortcomings by spending too much time at the gym. She describes herself as “happy go lucky,” but deep within they eyes of her profile picture I see nothing but fear and malcontent. It is my uncanny ability to pick up on these nuances that afford me an advantage that is second to none. Each short email I send to these women will allow them a chance to begin a special relationship, a relationship the likes of which they could never have imagined. It is unfortunately for that very reason that our time together is limited, for there are so many women returned upon each search who are in obvious need of my unique variety of companionship that I should never dream of halting my quest.

Filed under Commentary on September 10th, 2003