Scene I -- late at night on a laptop near you...a 40 something woman is typing...
OK God, (or Facebook, or the NSA, or same thing maybe?) OK, so here's the thing... I think I've really "done" the whole poverty, chastity and obedience (well...) thing...and basically I'd like the next half of my life to be more about abundance, joy -- and -- ummm....the right houseboy....but it's hard to find obedient ones these days...anyway -- just saying -- you know -- there must be someone else out there getting really bored with their big house, Ferrari and place in Cap d'Antibes- someone really longing to live the life of a single writer in Vancouver and experience the joys of public transit and waiting in line at Safeway....so I'm just saying I'd be happy to accommodate any kind of karmic switcheroo you feel might be appropriate- and yes I know it's big of me to offer to give up my carefree existence - totally unencumbered by something as banal as material security, or say, regular outings to Holt Renfrew, or say, a nice guy who's straight, solvent, and not married to someone else...but I really feel ready for that kind of challenge God (or Facebook or the NSA or whoever you are) - alrighty then - glad I got that off my chest! Amen.
Scene 2, at a faceless entity/non-entity near you, God/Facebook/ the NSA replies...
Listen dear... I appreciate your candour, but honestly...how many letters do you think I get like this every day?
I mean come on....use a little imagination - a Ferrari? A house in Cap D'Antibes? That's so 1986... I mean really. Why not something more retro mid century modern on Fire Island, and say a smart car?
I wish you well dear, but you've really got to scale back your expectations a bit. I mean come on now...solvent...heterosexual...and not married to someone else? You're lucky if you get one out of 3 these days.
Trust me there's only so many miracles to go around- times are tough - what with the mayoral race in New York and Anthony Weiner petitioning me every day for divine intervention.
So listen dear, do me a favour. I've got to think not only of people like Weiner but the whole Syrian crisis, not to mention the weird new age cult that's sprung up around Miley Cyrus (they're called MCIG - Miley Cyrus is God - little do they know she's actually a replicant!)
So look...why don't you just settle already. You really should have married that German guy you met in university. I mean so what if his grandfather was a Nazi? He was nice wasn't he? Clean cut, punctual, took you to all those classical music recitals?
And don't pretend I don't see you downloading all those re-runs of the New Adventures of Old Christine when you think no one's looking - and when you could be spending your time speed dating at a bar with horrible music and a throbbing bass line, or making polite conversation with that accountant next door.
After all dear, you can't fool God/facebook/NSA or whoever I am.
And I know you're still holding a torch for Larry David after he laughed at your joke that one time at the Grill on the Alley- but trust me - living with him would be like being trapped in a non stop episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm Curb Your Enthusiasm- and I mean that in a bad way.
So stop complaining and go to sleep. I'll see what I can arrange in the morning.
Nighty night
God/facebook/ the NSA/ whoever we are.
Scene 3, at an overpriced 400 square foot condo near you, the same woman types.
Dear God,
I woke up and I was still single in Vancouver. Is there some kind of magic trick you can assist with? I may have to stop believing in you/facebook/NSA altogether, and flee to an off grid feminist commune staffed by obedient house boys. Are you listening? There's only so long I can take this you know. I am warning you... I may soon abandon you for good time Gaia. At least there's more ecstatic dancing and less Old Testament blood sacrifice rituals/spying/advertising involved. And no thank you -I don't want to join that group for mature Christian singles. Frankly the guys all look like they wear rugs and have mad wives stashed in attics. Or perhaps young Austrians in basements.
There is a pregnant pause, and a few facebook bleeps
Dear Single Woman in her 40's,
I'm sorry about those Christian singles ads that keep popping up. They're not part of my larger plan - but they're annoyingly part of the contract. But as for those belly fat ones, well dear, have you had a good look at yourself lately? Look, just be patient. I'm working on it. And in the meantime do something about those abs - will ya?
Yours,
God/facebook/the NSA/ your mother etc.
There is silence, but for the sound of furious typing
Dear God/Facebook/the NSA etc/morphing into my mother/whoever you are
Look - this is it - that last guy you sent me? The yogi who sounded like yoda and made all those prissy pronouncements about inner peace? I know - he was cute - but he lives in the suburbs with his mother. I'm sorry - this is it - I'm breaking up with you. You just don't understand my demographic at all. And no, don't tell me to relax and watch another re-run of Girls. It's an annoying show for pretentious 20 somethings with ADD. I want something I can sink my teeth into - you know like a female Larry David or maybe just a few new episodes of New Adventures of Old Christine? Is that too much to ask? Anyway, you had your chance. I'm switching channels. I'm opting out.
There is a sound of something being unplugged off stage
Dear Single Woman in her 40's
Oh dear, we've lost another one. And just when I'd found you an obedient houseboy and a villa in Cap D'Antibes. But never mind.... Good- bye...
There is a slight hissing sound, like television static
Wait...what? Come back....I'm not ready to live off grid yet! I take it all back. I'll stop complaining and just settle...really I will....God....are you out there?