Dear Mr. Melissa Blake:
Did I ever tell you what I really hate about summer? The end of it. I was the sort of girl who always had grand dreams of having a classic summer fling a la Grease. In fact, every summer when my family went to the Deep South to visit my grandparents, I’d embark on what I dubbed My Southern Man Hunt. Don’t worry; it wasn’t as grand or promiscuous as it sounds. It basically involved keeping my eyes ever peeled for that certain Southern gentleman (Question: Were you born south of the Mason-Dixon Line?) – well, OK, it was more like Southern teenage boy because I was only 16 and 17 during those days. But the fact remained: I wanted to find a summer romance of my own. You know, the kind where you step out of your parents’ rented lake house, bump into a guy because you weren’t watching where you were going, he helps you up, you apologize for being so clumsy, and by the time you aren’t dizzy anymore, you both realize your families are staying next door to each other. It’s fate. It’s kismet.
At least that’s how the scenario would go in my case, awkwardness, awesomeness and all. Wouldn’t it be great, though, if you could rent a summer romance during the fall and winter months? Sort of like having a house in a warmer climate you can visit during the unbearably frigid temperatures.
Really. Isn’t there some 1-800 number I can call – a number that won’t connect me to some scary, well, you know, those bad numbers? I’m actually surprised someone hasn’t seen the marketing potential in all this. It could be the next big thing since mail-order brides. You place an order, including all your specifications, and a custom-made summer fling is set straight to your door in 7-10 business days.
Here’s my order:
*A male, a guy who is a bit introspective but has a sense of humor to balance things out, can make me laugh for hours, loves a woman with quirks, has cute quirks of his own, maybe once worked as a Calvin Klein model (but, of course, doesn’t like to boast about it too much), likes watching sunsets and will bring me Barq’s root beer every time he sees me….”
And even better, wouldn’t it be great if we actually did meet this way? Oh, I can smell that salty sea air of the boardwalk as I type this. Until we meet…