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Picture it. Los Angeles. Sometime during the last decade. A single girl in the big city looking for love…on the internet.

I knew quite a few people that had met their spouse that way so why not me? My co-worker’s words of encouragement were “Internet dating is like shopping a Ross. There are some good deals, but you have to trudge through a lot of crap.”

One of many unmemorable dates had a memorable post script to it. I can’t remember who emailed who first, but we seemed to hit it off. We chatted back and forth for a couple of days and finally decided to meet for lunch. Safe. Secure. Ordinary.

We met at the restaurant and there was no chemistry at all. Zip. Zero. Zilch. I think the date could be best described as an elevator ride, but with food. I believe we even discussed the weather. It was that bad because it is seventy degrees and sunny year-round. Nothing to discuss.

We had all the usual small talk about likes, hobbies, jobs, the food we were eating, the color of the napkins, etc. At the time, I was reading a lot of comic books and graphic novels. I asked if he read any and he shrugged. He had, but not since puberty had hit. Ouch. There were a lot of good titles out there now. A lot had changed since he was a kid. Shrug. After that, it was back to “what nice weather we are having.”

The date ended and I don’t even think we shook hands. I reached for the bill and he glared at me like I insulted his honor or something. I pretty much never thought I would hear from him again. But I was wrong. About a week later, I got an email from him.

“Hey, I wanted you to know that after our horrid, horrid date, I ended up at a comic book store. You were right. I picked up a few Preacher comics and have been just tearing through them. Thank you for telling me. This is by no means an indication of wanting another date. Have a nice life.”

Umm...thanks? Well, I guess if I was going to drive him into the arms of another man then the fictional Preacher, Jesse Custer, is as good as any.

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