The following events are based upon non-fictional characters and their non-fictional story…seriously. However, there maybe slight personality embellishments and general exaggerations made purely for the entertainment of the reader and at the sole prudence of the author; as well, all dialogue is classified under the assumptions of the author based upon her experience, however pathetically un-empathetic it may be. Said assumptions may just as well be thought of as fact…

Ah, love. At one point in time or another we’ve all been jammed into that proverbial pigeonhole of those the eager aficionados of love and its twisted patterns.

Cast your minds…
You’re a beautiful young woman. By worldly standards as well as by their counterparts, you are well traveled, well-spoken, very intelligent, motivated and a culinary genius. You enjoy wonderful relationships with friends, co-workers and other colleagues all who esteem and venerate you. You’re in your early twenties; young enough to escape the jaded bitterness of time, and old enough to be justified in your deliciously merciless scrutinizing of “kids today”. Now, in your love career, there have been some encounters that were...less than faith-invoking. But, you will not be swayed in your pursuit of this core belief that love is out there.
Now, you are well aware of the socially accepted conduits through which you may find said “love” – parties, friends etc. But, for some reason (seriously…what made you do this?) the call of the internet dating service is as melodious as it is intriguing, like a modern day siren - calling from the banks of desperation…
So, after jumping through the standard bureaucracy of professional love-finding, you’re ready. And then…you meet him.
His name is Bauch, strange you think – but you would challenge anyone to not be fascinated by such a name.
He’s pushing 30, attractive, and in all other areas of life, refreshingly average.
Time passes…an unexpected entity manages to drive the first wedge between the two of you. Though it may be easier to cure than the common cold, indubitably action must be taken, that which requires the realization that one of you is to blame…and you know it’s not you.
Bauch apologizes profusely and vows to expedite the remedial measures necessary to eradicate said “entity” and thereby eliminate any future wedges of that nature…
Time passes…no one likes to have a cold twice in a row, am I right? Well, at this point you don’t really care how many things can’t be cured as fast as this little bequest which warrants NO applause; you grow even more perturbed.
Time passes…the hurdles have gotten higher, but perhaps mingling with one another’s respective posses may cast the other in a softer, more amicable light. A night out with friends reveals past discomfitures for you; like the time that you blew a massive snot bubble whist in a grocery store from laughing so hard at that really funny friend that you love more than any of your other friends because of her generally attractive nature set off by her uproarious humor or her overall scrumtralescense. “How embarrassing!” you quip in perfect tenor. But Bauch’s “embarrassing” past is quick to change the tone of the evening.
His roommate decided to contribute with, “Dude, remember when you, like, went to prison because that chick’s parents totally charged you with stat rape just cause she was, like, 15 and you were, like, not? Dude…that was hilarious!” …
“Or afterwards, when her brother freaked out and came and tried to beat the crap out of you…and you like beat the living crap out of him? …you…you remember that? That was awesome!?”
Disbelief, awe and confusion seem to strike you across your cognizance like some perverse braid of perplexity. Jigga what?!
It continues… “Or when those guys tried to like, attack you when you were in prison and you like totally killed that one dude! WHOA! We were all like, DUDE! That’s some heavy stuff right there…”

Just to reinterate...this actually happened to someone. A very beautiful someone who has more exciting and amazing things to offer to the world, let alone one single person, than anyone I know. Someone who could hit whatever she set her sights on...she could hit that.

The following is not directed at said friend in any way shape or form...she is exempted.

You may take this testimonial as you may; I cannot persuade you into thinking one way or another. How boring the world would be if everyone were like me…awesome in its own right…but boring. But I implore you…good people of the single persuasion. Is it worth it? Is loneliness so deplorable that we turn to the java script wise men of our day to “match” us to people that God has most likely gone to tireless efforts to have us never have to meet in our life times?

Let's drop the mouse; put on some shoes; go for a walk (outside) and maybe we'll remember that life is worth more than that; and we should cherish what dignity we have left after Reality TV and catchy Britany Spears songs have had their way with us.

Just something to think about.