Sunnyvale, California

Jeff had checked countless personal ads, matchmaking agencies and been on more blind dates in the past few months than any healthy American male should be forced to endure. But let's be real, what did he have to show for all this activity? Nada. Nothing. Not even the slightest proverbial zing had passed between him and the women he had dated.

He took stock of himself as future husband material. At thirty-five, he was in good physical condition from weekly workouts with his personal trainer. He held a challenging job in one of Silicon Valley's foremost computer companies. As a product manager, his income was more than decent. He was considered a pretty nice guy, at least that is what his sisters-in-law told him when asked. So why was he having such a hard time finding the right woman to set up house with?

He had experienced what most men would consider the ultimate smorgasbord of available women, from nose-pierced students to silk bloused lady executives. Sure, at first it had been fun meeting a new woman every night, taking her out to different restaurants and movies. But lately the awkward goodnights and milquetoast handshakes had, well, become less than satisfying, try damn frustrating. He wanted to see the same face every night, to be invited inside, to lie down in bed with her and to stay for the rest of his life. It just wasn't happening.

Pulling a hand through his black hair, Jeff faced the computer screen and clicked-up the menu to the network message board. Maybe wonder of wonders something new had popped up since the last time he looked? Right now he was open to any suggestion that would get him out of his present dating funk.

The computer star burst into action with the click of the mouse, as if he were light speeding into another universe. There, in the magical world where modern technology became part of the mythic legend of love potions, millennium man expected to find the tonic pat answer to all of his heart's befuddling demands.

An animated cupid shooting arrows appeared on the screen. The little cherub winked at him, aimed and let fly an arrow. It hit the heart dangling from a nearby message tree. Upon contact with the arrow the heart split open to reveal the paid message: EASTERN BLOCK WOMEN EAGER TO MEET WESTERN MEN. FIND YOUR IDEAL MATE. ORDER YOUR CATALOGUE TODAY. Below the message was a phone number to call.

Jeff tapped the screen and leaned back in his swivel chair.  He reached for the phone. He had tried everything known within the North American hemisphere, so what did he have to lose? With the Cold War over, the Pacific was just separating two large land masses containing fairly similar populations. He dialed the number. An operator with a heavy Slavic accent answered the phone. He decided to order ten catalogues, knowing that they would contain an estimated one thousand faces. Surely he could find one that met his idea of the perfect mate.

Yeah, right, he frowned, recalling all the women he had met and dated. He ordered ten more. Two thousand suddenly sounded a safer number.

Feeling as if he had just taken a giant step in the right direction, Jeff poured himself a cup full of his favorite percolated mud. Holding a Chip-tech logo imprinted mug, he saluted the air around him. "To the future Mrs. Jeff Morgan, wherever you may be found."

Taking a sip, he sighed with contentment. Tomorrow night was the beginning of the weekend and, for the first time in weeks, he was looking forward to it.

♥♥♥♥♥♥

I Love You Miss #3198 -3 (Continue)