My dear Judy,
I wish you in good health and abundance in all good things and I hope I will be the same if you help me.
By these past spring I am very, very lonely. I am seeking for a secret sex partner. She must be STD-free, blond, fair, beautiful face and body. She might be my secret lover. I am a mechanical engineer, Filipino, clean, and professional. I will be at the side of the telephone booth sitting at the bench on Saturday, May 10, 11:30-noon, and on Sunday at the same time. The place: Winco Foods, First Way, Federal Way.
I am sorry I can't come to you. I am new at Washington. Afraid to lost. I need an escort. To identify me, I am wearing blue jeans and jacket and orange cap. You must wear cap too for me to identify you. I have no bank account, no credit card, but I have cash.
I love you,
Oh, dear, sweet Mr. Lonely!
It's been a grim spring over here at Dategirl HQ. No love in my life, no sex in my bed, no cash in my checking account, but worst of allno letters from prison. Time was a girl could count on receiving a few missives from the Big House each month, but no more. I'm not sure if the screws have outlawed the Weekly or if my previously loyal band of felons simply lost their yen for me. Perhaps they've all been set free and are back out on the street, committing new and different crimes. Whatever the scenario, there's been a void.
But then you step into my life, Mr. Lonely. Thank you. I also wish you good health and abundance in all good things, though I'm not sure if I return your feelings of love. You may not be incarcerated, but you sure are nutty in a most delightful way!
I'm not actually sure whether your letter is a request for me to become your secret sexy lady (full disclosure: I'm not blondoops!), or if you merely want me to pimp for you. Either way, you probably noticed I did not show up at the telephone booth next to the supermarket. This is because my mama brought me up with a set of three very specific rules: (1) Do not eat food that you find on the street, under a sofa cushion, or on the floor of the car; (2) brush your teeth after each meal (no matter where you found it); and (3) do not meet strange men by telephone booths unless they have a valid major credit card and a checking account.
So you see, I had no choice but to blow you off. Perhaps once you get this whole financial situation straightened out, we can try again. Until then, good luck!
Dear Ms. McGuire,
I think you've been hurt, and as a result, the hurt keeps coming. Though I don't know you, I feel I can relate. As we think, so we become.
Sex was given as a gift, and an outgrowth of marital union, where a common unity of truth, love, and virtue can grow. You've perhaps thought about all this, I do not mean to insult your intelligence. As well, perhaps you've tried marriage, or at least thought about it. If not, could it be that you are afraid? Then again, maybe you're not afraid of anything, judging by the harshness you display in your writing.
Perhaps this hardness is a wall of security, maybe to keep from being hurt. Many within today's society would say that your hardness is "sexy."
I say that the unique essence of your femininity has yet to be fully realized. Know this, Ms. McGuire, you are a flower of great beauty and fragrance. I say this not to patronize, for you probably get lots of that. But rather, I say this to edify you.
We're not beasts of burden, nor pieces of meat for sale to the lowest bidder. You are a woman of great value, virtue, and victory. Be not discouraged, for soon you shall be satisfied of its great hungerlove is on the way.
A Man of Sincerity
Jeez. I sure hope it's not sitting next to a phone booth waiting for me.
Don't wait! Write Dategirl at dategirl@ seattleweekly.com or c/o Seattle Weekly, 1008 Western, Ste. 300, Seattle, WA 98104.