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June 12, 1997

Greggy MacGuire
Copyright 1997 - Greg Bulmash - All Rights Reserved

I broke up with my girlfriend. I don't know exactly when though. Maybe you recall Steve Martin's swingin' Czech character, when he discusses the break-up ritual in his country... "you say 'I break with thee, I break with thee, I break with thee,' and then you throw dog poop on her shoes." That's proactive. With my girlfriend, it seems we've broken up by default.

We haven't seen each other in over a month, neither of us has tried to contact the other by phone or e-mail for about three and change weeks now, and honestly I'm not bothered by it.

Well, that's sort of untrue. I am bothered by it in the sense that it hasn't been finalized, but by now calling her seems like a formality. "Hello, this is your courtesy break-up call." So, though I haven't officially been released from my going-steady contract, it does seem to be null and void. That's why I have secured the services of Frannie Rabinowitz, one of the top boyfriend agents in the country.

Frannie assures me that she's already fielding offers from a wide variety of women who want to pick up my option. She assures me she can place me with a good-natured, artistic, intelligent, 5'10" brunette, plus get me laundry services and two weeks severance sex in the case of a break-up. Perhaps the skill Frannie is most famous for is getting around that "love me, love my cat" clause that so many women want to put into the contracts.

I'm not quite as confident as Frannie about my prospects in the relationship market. As a freelance writer and designer I continuously totter on the border between discovery and poverty, so financial stability is an issue that I'm figuring women will use to leverage their position and win concessions like me having to put my Elvis memorabilia in storage in the event of a move-in.

Frannie keeps telling me that where I fall short in finance, I more than make up for it in romance. In fact she's told me that she's confident she'll even be able to get me an endorsement deal with Trojan Condoms. I'll believe that when they show me the money.

It's an odd way to do things. It used to be that I'd meet a woman, talk to her, and if there was a spark, arrange a first date. Now I meet a woman, talk to her, and if there seems to be a spark, I have her call my agent. But Frannie assures me that this is the direction things are going in the 90's. Straight, educated, disease-free males with a reasonable or better level of physical attractiveness are at a premium, especially if they can be both strong and tender simultaneously.

Maybe I'm too negative. I consider myself at best a diamond in the rough, but Frannie won't hear any of it. She loves to quote that movie, Swingers, and tell me "you are so money and you don't even realize it." Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. I just say "thanks, Mom" and wait for her to produce some results.

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