My Enemies Told Me to Write This Ad

Yes, my enemies forced me to post a personal ad. Otherwise I would have just picked up some guy in a bar and, the next morning, given him only change enough to go out and buy me a coffee before my neighbor, Spike, threw him out into the street.  But now my enemies – and there are many of them – are saying, “Alice, you need to stop dating anonymous men and start finding them on the internet.” This directive is hard to resist when one of my sworn foes is threatening to bring over Martha Stewart to…to do nothing actually, just to annoy the shit out of me. “I’ll do anything,” I told my nemesis.

About me: My enemies say “I have a nice smile,” especially after I steal their boyfriends and ruin them for marriage. They, my bitter adversaries, say, “I am fun to have around”…as the person sitting in a dunking machine – but screw them, you should see me in a wet T-shirt. The Guns of Navarone were pea-shooters in comparison.

The Romance Inquisition is now making me read the following item, at gun point: “I am just as comfortable in a pair of jeans as in an evening dress” – no, come to think of it, jeans are a lot more comfortable. But you get the message: I wear clothes outside the house. “I love my job,” because to say otherwise is to appear like a pessimist, however much my job as a deli clerk in a downtown supermarket may suck in reality. In fact, half my enemies are customers at the store whom I ignore when they stand at the counter waving their stupid ticket for 84 consecutive minutes – like I give a shit about their pastrami sliced thin and their aching feet.

Well, boys, how ‘bout it? What I am looking for is a man who is the enemy of my enemies, which would qualify him as a friend, which is a good starting point to eventually becoming a loving couple dedicated to vanquishing our enemies.