Dear Amritsar,
As a member of Borenstein Mencken Rottweiler Astroturf Gretch, I was part of the legal team that put together the merger between American Street Dingus and the North Korean company Daisutsaomonovanecki. Yes, the merger did ultimately bankrupt both companies, but lawyers are first in line in any receivership proceedings, so my firm didn't suffer, and, in any case, the whole reason I bring it up is to help you understand that I am a busy woman who wants a relationship with a man, but I want him to be there when I want and to leave me alone when I need to work.
Unfortunately, under their tough, nicely buffed exteriors, men are so needy. Bill Fouldes wanted me to validate his negative feelings about his mother - not to mention his parking. Dietrich Biggles-Smalles wanted constant reminders that he was smarter than I was, which became increasingly difficult because he wasn't. Bertie Noumnoums wanted his toast done on all sides in twelve dimensional space and his hard-boiled eggs shaken, not stirred.
After a while, you realize that you don't want a man, you want a cat. I have three: Princess Potty, Erik the Red (With White Spots and Brown Ears) and Eliza Dolessthanlittle. After another while (which can be shorter or longer depending upon your tolerance for bleu cheese), though, you realize that cats can only do so much for you, and you really do need a man after all.
Bastard biology.
So, I started dating Victor Flamenco, who, being a professional cross-country jai alai player, was both very physically fit and not very bright. But, I wasn't taking chances, so, on the first night we spent together, a spliced a little DNA I had taken from my cats onto his genes. Not to help his night vision or sense of direction, you understand, but to help me get my work done in peace.
It worked well, too. For the first couple of months, after we made love, Victor left my house to prowl the neighbourhood, often not returning for a day or two. I had my boy toy and my career - life was good! Then, without warning, the relationship fell from a seventh floor apartment window and didn't land on its well padded feet.
One night we were in front of The Bar (not the lawyers' association, but one of an increasing number of generic drinking establishments - I originally wanted to go to The Pub, but the wait for a table was too long) when, without warning, Victor sat on the sidewalk, raised one leg and started licking the crotch of his pants. I didn't know that was physically possible! When people stopped to stare, I told them he was Belgian. When he was done, we were given a table...next to the doors of the kitchen, a cordon sanitaire of empty tables around us.
Wait. It gets worse. He won't eat anything but fish, and, even then, half of the time he'll turn up his nose and walk away from the dinner table without saying a word. After a couple of months of this, we had a terrible argument because I wanted something - anything else to eat. The next morning, I found a...present in one of my shoes in the closet. Victor insisted he didn't know anything about it. But, it was bigger than the...gift that one of my cats could have left, even Eliza Dolessthanlittle, who has beyond irritable bowel syndrome, and, in any case, the closet door was firmly closed, so, unless they have opposable thumbs, my cats could not have possibly left it for me.
I have tried to end the relationship, but Victor always finds a window that allows him to jump back into my house. Once, when I made sure all of the windows were locked, he crawled under the porch and howled until I had no choice but to let him in.
I can't have Victor fixed and I can't have him put down - what can I do?
Gwendolyn Shmolniak
Hey, Babe,
Were you raised by wolves? On the Internet?As a matter of fact, I was. Yes, yes, I was raised by wolves on the Internet.
Gwendolyn (But You Can Call Me Gwen Now That We Know Each Other a Little Better) Shmolniak
Hey, Babe,
If aloof men are really that important to you, move to Iceland. The men there are so aloof, you would swear they were trees!
Send your relationship problems to the Alternate Reality News Service's sex, love and technology columnist at questions@lespagesauxfolles.ca. Amritsar Al-Falloudjianapour is not a trained therapist, but she does know a lot of stuff. AMRITSAR SAYS: You don't understand why your girlfriend didn't take “I saw a woman who looked just like you on Stripper Cams Central - man, she was hot!” as the compliment you had intended? Oh, brother, I could write a book. And, when I do, please read it. Women everywhere will thank you.