Jack Shackaway here.
I’m free. A freelance writer. A free spirit. You name it. Currently a bachelor.
So why don’t I feel better? Where’s the lift of adventure, the sense of new horizons?
In my experience, the advantages of living alone are generally clearer when you’re living with somebody. (And vice versa.) Meanwhile I recognise another unfortunate fact of nature: Money serves in much the same way a shiny new Johnson Weedless Silver Spoon does when you’re fixin’ to catch a nice pike or two. But here I am casting away with nothing except a rusty old hook.
Whatever. Collin’s move to hit the philosophers up for a bankroll has inspired me. Check this out.
Wanted — one reasonably (or even extraordinarily) attractive woman, educated, with a sense of humor. The successful candidate may be of any color (except some shades of green) and any philosophical persuasion (except Marxist-Leninist or Middle American). Willing to relocate, sometimes at the drop of a hat, and willing to go anywhere your man says you’re going, by God. Willing to live in garrets on the off chance that someday the money will roll in, but it probably won’t. Your man is going gray, has just been fitted for a two-tooth denture, and can still do 60 push-ups in a minute but generally doesn’t feel like it. He’s often incapable of saying anything courteous before 10 o’clock in the morning. He once had a few dollars but he squandered them on beer and the Thai stock market, and if he had a few more dollars he’d probably do the same thing all over again.
Get your applications in early. A heavy response is anticipated, and it’s going to be first come first served. Where there’s little to choose between two obvious winners, your man is willing to consider ménages à trois.
Oh, yeah. It would also be to your advantage to have money. Lots of it.
Not only am I fishing with a rusty hook, Collin tells me, now I’m also asking the fish to slip some bait onto it.
