Personal Ads, Chapter two
The Ad
An hour later, Jim was walking down the street to his office, when he came upon a man standing outside the New York Times building, handing out fliers. Unknowingly, Jim instinctively grapped a flier, and read it as he walked:
Hey there New York! Love life stinks? Well find your match with our personal ad sections! Only sixty bucks a square! To submit your personal ad, please send in your name, age, phone number, and what you enjoy. Good luck!
Jim stopped, and thought about the ad. He put it in his briefcase, thinking: No that crap's for the desperate people! Jim worked non-stop that day, writing the newest software on his flat-screen desktop in his gray cubicle. By the end of they day, he was exhausted. He closed his briefcase, wiped off the sandwich crumbs off of his tie, and caught a cab, feeling tired. The sky turned a dark purple, orange, and reddish color as the big sun began to set. Then, the city really came to life. The billboards were lit, people went out to dine and shop, and the theater district was packed. This really is the city that never sleeps, Jim thought aloud.
He walked into his apartment building, and got the elevator right as it was closing. He rode up the long trip up to the thirteenth floor, stepped out, when he came upon Mrs. Gorman.
Mrs. Gorman was a very chatty woman. She was the typical New Yorker except she was old, a little not right up in the head, and had an extremely loud, yapping dog, with the classic name "Fi-fi."
"Oh Jim, I heard about your break-up! So sorry, but you really should get over her if she wasn't right for you. Well, I met my Bob in the personal ads and we haven't had a break up, except for the occasional fight, but what relationships can't avoid that," she said quickly. "You really should come over sometime it's really…." She was cut off by the yapping dog, and Jim took the opportunity to run to the door of his apartment.
"Well, nice talkin' to ya, Gorman," Jim said as he closed the door on the poor woman and her insane canine. He threw his briefcase on the counter, and went to the fridge to grab some food. As he turned away from the fridge with a Chinese carton from yesterday in his hand, Jim noticed a little orange sheet on the floor. He bent down, and picked it up, and noticed then the sheet had been the Personal ad.
"Oh it's you again," he mumbled, thinking aloud. Something told Jim not to throw it away, so he just kept it on the counter, staring at it, thinking of the possibilities of a new relationship in the future. Finally, Jim gave in. He spent the whole night writing his ad, trying to be sexy and suave, but everything was ruined when it came to the "What you like to do" section. Should I lie, be cool, forget it, Jim asked himself. "What do I do?"
The next morning, the ad was perfected. Jim ended up stating his job was in computers, but that he wasn't a techie nerd or anything like that. He walked down the Times building, and walked into the marble lobby, where a gold fountain was in the middle. The old-English heading of the newspaper's title was mounted above the reception desk, where a young woman sat, typing at the computer.
Jim walked up, but it was rather difficult, with at least one hundred reporters running to catch a ride in the elevator, while many ran out, going to get a story or a scoop on something. "Hello miss, I have a personal ad I wrote here, and I was wondering where I should send it?"
The beautiful woman spoke, but her voice was impatient, annoyed, "Third floor, second door on the left, and give it to the girl at the desk."
"Alright, thanks," he said politely. Jim felt strange. Normally, Jim would be nervous, not having much confidence to talk to such a stranger with ease. He followed the woman's directions; Jim took the crowded elevator, to the third floor, and walked into the second door on the left. The window read "Personals". Jim took a breath, and walked into the door, to the office where another young woman sat. She was beautiful; glasses covered her brown eyes, she wore a business suit, but it fit her thin body, and her blonde hair came down to her shoulders.
"Um, may I help you," she asked as she rummaged around her desk, covered with papers.
"Yea, you can. I am here to put in my personal ad," Jim said.
"Yes of course you are, here let me take that for you," she said nicely as she extended her arm towards him to take the paper Jim typed up. He gave it to her, and she briefly read it while she asked him another question, "Sex?"
Jim was speechless. Finally, she looked up and asked again, "What sex you looking for?"
"Oh, um, oh yes, male seeking female. Thanks," he said quickly. Embarrassed, he ran out the door, but then Jim started laughing at the situation. It seemed as though everything was gonna get better now, he thought. Jim walked back out of the marble lobby, into the bustling streets of New York, and headed towards his office building.
The secretary looked over the man who had just ran out of her office's paper. Hmm, computer-techie, 35, good literature and movies, huh? Good luck," she joked.
She got up, went over to the file cabinet in the corner of the room, and opened the drawer. Inside, there were four files each labeled with either Male seeking Female, Female seeking Male, Male seeking Male, and Female seeking Female. She searched for the file marked Male seeking Female, the drawer being so full, and when she thought she had found it, her desk phone began to ring shrilly. She jumped, surprised, dropped the paper in the drawer into its rightful file, and went the phone.
As Jim's day went on, he kept a smile on his face, hoping he would find the right girl, finally, after waiting so long. He had known Jenny was wrong for him, but Jim stayed with her for one reason or another. As he continued to write the software, little did Jim know that a few blocks down, the beautiful woman at the desk in the "Personals" room, had placed his Male seeking Female ad into the Male seeking Male file….