Thursday, August 12, 2004

Love for Sale. Red-Hot Internet Love for Sale.

There's been an Internet Bride sighting.

I went to the doctor's office yesterday to get some prescription refills. My doctor has this policy of demanding a large fruit basket, and other assorted tributes, in person, before he will write a prescription refill. I accept his odd demands for food, but draw the line at wearing the tribute visor.

As I veer wildly off-topic, let me also mention that we recently changed our medical insurance. We previously had coverage with the 'We Don't Cover a %$*damn Thing' insurance company of Actuary, Iowa. As far as I could determine, every dollar they paid out in benefits was then added to the cost of our premium for the next six month period. Joseph Heller, to no one's surprise, was on the Board of Directors.

So I'm in the waiting area when I see them. She is blonde, with lovely, striking features. He is a foot shorter and somewhat fleshy, although I don't want to give you the idea that he was doughy, because there's a considerable distance between extra flesh and baking material.

The attractiveness gap between them was roughly thirty nautical miles.

I first noticed that he was reading the medical questionnaire to her. "High fever, chills, swollen glands, swollen lymph nodes, exhaustion, prostration, delirium." She answered 'no' to all questions, so I think they've just ruled out bubonic plague. He continues, eliminating everything from breast cancer to dropsy to the Bubble Boy disease.

These medical questionnaires tend to be a bit broad.

Once they're finished, he takes the form up to the counter. "We're done," he says. "I need to be present at the appointment because my fiancée doesn't speak English very well." He also mentioned her name, which I didn't quite catch but I believe means 'temporary' in her native language.

"Oh, really?" asks the entirely unaware receptionist. "Where is she from?"

"The Ukraine," he says. Yes! I had money on Ukraine, with Karjakistan as my second choice.

"How did you two meet?" she asks. Where is a clue vendor when you really need one?

"The Internet," he says, somewhat proudly and without a trace of irony. As he says that, my mind is running a time-lapse photography sequence like they do with decomposing flowers. The blooming rose has no self-knowledge of its ultimate and grisly demise.

After he confirms that, in fact, this is a case of Red-Hot Ukrainian Love for Sale, he makes multiple phone calls wildly disrupting his work day so that he can stay for the duration of the appointment.

They say that love is blind, and it certainly is. Her t-shirt reading 'I Brake for Green Cards' should be a tip-off, but not to him.

All right, maybe her shirt didn't actually say that. Or maybe that's what mine said. Details blur.

He should also have known that she'd have some health issues. Everyone knows that when you adopt an Internet Bride, there are problems. They probably haven't had all their shots, and there's a good chance they have heartworms or mange.

Now I'm sure that some of you are thinking "Hey--it might work." And hey, it might. But unless he's in a band, homely dudes don't wind up with hot chicks.

This is actually a very good argument for being in a band. Ric Ocasek looks like a praying mantis with sunglasses, put out a solo album titled 'Troublizing,' and STILL wound up with Paulina Porizkova, who was the hottest woman in the world at the time. She was even hot and funny. So if you're reading this column and you're still in high school, shut down the computer immediately and get your ass to a music store.

Seriously though, I wish them luck--him on the marriage, and her on the personal ads she's filling out nightly when he's asleep.

Love is a beautiful thing.

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