Imagine the exotic breakfast aromas cutting through the crisp air as we leave the hotel. We walk to the car, while you laugh at the way I mispronounce the words in the phrase book. I challenge you to do better. The fabric of your new blouse feels strange, but exciting: we pretend that you're a local girl and that our affair will scandalize your family.
Inside the car, I touch your hair; your lips brush my wrist and we marvel at the odds we overcame to find each other. Raucous noise erupts from the market across the street; the moment passes and you dig the map out of the glove box. "Which one first?" I ask, and you say...
Before we continue our story, let's get to know each other a little better. I think that honesty and communication are the most important ingredients in the recipe for a successful relationship, so I'll start.
According to the AP wire service, I'm apparently not the easiest guy in the world to put up with. I only eat real food, and I tend to make fun of people who are gullible enough to swallow McSimulations. I don't drink alcohol or anything with caffeine, Apartame, Nurtisweet, or radioactive isotopes. I work out six days a week. Twice, some days. It's important to me. If I stop, I'll get old, fat and ugly, and then I'll die. I hope you like to work out too, because, well... I think we already covered that... I also have a penchant for breathing, so if you smoke, you'll have to do it somewhere else. Understand, I'm not a health & fitness freak or anything, but -- well, OK, I am a health & fitness freak.
I'm not big on changing myself, or pretending to be someone I'm not, just to please other people. I like my life and how I feel about myself, and I'm happy that both get better every day. I'm not completely inflexible though: I am willing to show off enough to impress your Mom and make your girlfriends jealous. I can, for example, cook minute rice in fifty seconds or less. My skills in the international banking arena are frequently sought by Nigerians needing to transfer large sums of money. On weekends, to let off steam, I often practice full-contact sock puppetry. What more could your friends and family ask for in the guy who chooses you? Best of all, I promise that, as long as you can be discreet, your Mom will never figure out that I'm the one she was always warning you about.
I also have a few interesting hobbies, but you don't get to find out about those until we know each other a little bit better.
Okay, so I've started my half of the honesty and communication thing. Now it's your turn. If you think we would find each other interesting, drop me an e-mail and tell me about yourself. It doesn't matter where you live -- after all, this is not an especially big planet, all things considered.
One more thing: I'm afraid that spelling and grammar do count, at least while all we have between us is our words. That means you win extra points by knowing the difference, for example, between "your" "you're" "yore" and (god forbid) "ur."
So hit the "Contact" button now -- but only if you're sure...