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- - - - - - - - - - - - Sept. 27, 2000 |
A co-worker showed me a link. Hmm, an educated escort? $12,000 a day, with a two-day minimum? There was a FAQ. It was good, especially this: "I sit and read Thoreau and eat plums and fresh cherries in the hotel. Seriously, what we decide to do with the time is our business. I am sure that you will be quite pleased."
I notice that her pictures have Photoshopped eyes; they've been softened and blurred and might not even be hers. I surf some more and find that "she" has a link on her Web page to Slashdot -- geek central. Slashdot? I was intrigued. Who was "she?" A company? A front for some shady character who might be gathering e-mails or phone numbers? A Slashdot-type joker playing a trick? Or was "she" real? I decide to employ a tactic from the recent movie "The Tao of Steve": Step No. 1 -- Eliminate Desire. I e-mailed her about the Photoshopping and the Slashdot link. See, I was asking about tech stuff, taking an interest in her page layout, not her body layout. Half an hour later "she" -- using the name "Anne Marie" -- responded, from an encrypted Hushmail account, which I thought was smart if she was real. Smart, and also undeniably attractive, for a guy like me. I guess I'm a sucker for crypto-girls. She said, "I have a Slashdot link up because I have been a longtime fan of the site and have a degree in computers." She also said that Slashdot mentioned her site earlier this year in this piece: and it sent so many hits that it "slashdotted" her site and crashed it. She had altered her own pictures to protect her identity, as it says on her site. (Read The F---ing Manual, dope!) "She" said she is real, built the site herself and does all her own marketing. Oh, and she is currently reading a book on UFOs and anti-matter. "Computer Science, UFOs and anti-matter," I responded, "that's sexier than your pictures!" To myself I think: I might be able to talk to this woman for more than 10 minutes, not like the other supermodels I usually date ... Oh, I know what you're thinking: She was playing me like an optical mouse and I was singing while I watched her click my buttons. Time for Step No. 2 from "The Tao of Steve": Do Something Excellent. Hmm. I'm stumped here until I get an e-mail from her where "she" says she took a look at my Web site and liked the writing. I check my stock portfolio, calculate its current worth and wonder if she would accept the fraction of two days that it would cover. Make an exception for me? She said she liked my writing ... I show a co-worker the e-mails and I blush uncontrollably. I feel like I'm sinking into a very dangerous fantasy area, but it's soooo fun.
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