Unlike nearly every other person with an email inbox out there, I don’t get a lot of spam or junk mail. I have no idea why – I’m just as depraved as the next web surfer, you’d think I’d have picked up at least a couple sketchy cookies in my history by now.
Oh, but I’m trying not to take it personally, though. Maybe I’m just too virtuous for such questionable communiques. Yeah, that’s it.
So, of course, whenever I do see a (1) next to my “Junk” folder name, I can’t click on it fast enough. If my Internet provider considers whatever’s in there to be of absolutely no value and no good for me … well, out of my way, let me at it.
Maybe it’s one of those wonder pills, herbal and all-natural, that will make me “hung like bull.” Or how about some “real” Viagra – just $10 (Canadian) for 1,000 capsules – to make me “love stronger and longer than many bulls!” Or could it be that my great-uncle in Nigeria finally kicked off and that $137 million he’s been holding for me in the Abuja Savings & Loan is mine, mine, mine!!! I thought he’d never die.
Anyway – imagine my surprise when I glanced over and saw a (1) today. What could it be?
Actually, this time it was who could it be. Someone named “S.B.” And the subject? “Transport of Love.”
Oh, my favorite! Another Russian woman I’ve never heard of has finally found me. Without even opening it, I can see her swimming in slow motion across the Atlantic, just to reach me! (And she would get here so much faster if I would just send her $1,000, for one of those slippery wetsuits and English lessons, don’t you know.)
I was not disappointed.
My dear friend,
Sometimes you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with your soul mate and you want to meet your beloved person as soon as possible.
This twenty-first century letter speaks for my twentieth century soul. And it does not matter that we never met in real life, never talked, touched or even hold hands. I feel like I want to know you better and you are the one for me.
That perfect man exists in my imagination and I am dreaming about meeting him all days and nights. We have to be patient in order to get what we want. I’d like you to know that I am waiting for my love, my dear.
See you later,
How nice. How sweet. And she sounds so genuine too. I must write her back. But there is no return email address, just a website. No, no, no – I can’t just click on a website. Where’s the heartfeltness, where’s the one-on-oneness, where’s the romance in that?
No, if this is true love, I shall write a letter to her here. No doubt … like Cupid’s arrows, it will find its way. For as that lovely saying about true love goes: If you love something, let it go. If it doesn’t come back, then may it eat shit and die. And if it does, it better have a damn good story for where’s the hell it’s been all this time.
My dearest dear, dear Svet,
How good to hear from you – I hope all is well. You must forgive me if I seem a little confused as I write this. After all, it has been a while since we last talked. Oh, that’s right – we’ve never talked now, have we?
No matter. How my heart swoons to hear that your twenty-first century letter speaks for your twentieth century soul! It just sucks, though, that your 17th-century Internet provider didn’t get this to me sooner. Drat and double-drat – as alas, I am already spoken for.
Actually, Svet dear, I’ve been bespeaked for quite some time now. And get this – she’s of Lithuanian descent! Can you believe it? I’ll bet you’re cursing the day your country ever let that little satellite fly the Soviet Union coop! Isn’t life strange, though.
Yes, yes it is. For as you so splendidly say, “it does not matter that we never met in real life, never talked, touched or even hold hands.” Can’t miss what you’ve never had, no?
So, as they say in my country, don’t be a stranger! Ta-ta and would be yours truly if I truly knew you,
Sigh – my first “Dear Svet” letter. Sealed with a kick.