“ If you read this and actually liked it, call me and I think we could really connect.” I close the book. I know, I know, it is so cheesy, but what’s a girl to do? I’m almost thirty and have never had a healthy relationship. There is a complete lack of worthy men at work, I’m not into the whole club scene, and Internet dating is potentially hazardous and I do not trust it at all. No, at the end of the day I curl up with the only true companion I have ever really had: books. And while my way of finding men may be unethical, I maintain a small ray of hope that it will lead me to my soul mate.
Here’s how it works: whenever I find a book that I really love, I write my name and number neatly in the front cover and hope that an intelligent, attractive man will read it, love it, and call me. I sell these books to Book Marks; a quiet, local bookstore nestled between a coffee shop and an antique store. I spend Saturdays at Book Marks with Spencer, the manager of the store. Spencer is probably my best friend. We had kind of a rough beginning, though. He found out that I had defaced the book I was selling to him and threw a fit. After much begging and pleading from me he agreed to help and since then does his best to smuggle my books past the owner, who I have actually never met.

Of course, my brilliant plan has backfired on several occasions. First, there was Tony from The Importance of Being Earnest, a very nice, but very gay man, who is now one of my closest friends. We met for dinner at one of the nicest restraunts in town and I was sure he was the one until he told me about his ex-boyfriend who took their cat. I hate cats. But now Tony and I have coffee at Book Marks once a week and discuss our latest reads. Then there was Julia from pride and Prejudice, she is now my best friend and thinks that my way of finding men is ingenious, but weird. But what can I say; I never said I was normal. Julia always tries to fix me up with people she knows from work, but they are all so inherently boring that I rarely make it through a whole date. So I sit here, in an armchair at Book Marks, with a steaming cup of tea while the snow falls outside, with Dostoevsky…waiting. I hear a buzzing from my purse. Slightly annoyed, I dig through the gum wrappers, lipsticks, and post-its that litter my purse and find my phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi. My name is Mark, I found your number in the cover of Macbeth, I thought it was really clever.”

Oh yes! Oh Yes yes yes yes! He sounds nice. I bet he’s nice! Bit still… I’d better be cautious.

“Just out of curiosity, how old are you?”

“31. I’m single and strait, as I’m guessing those were your next questions.”

Wow, this guys a mind reader! I must ask him to coffee!

“ Would you like to go to coffee with me tomorrow?”
“I would love to.”
“ Great how about at noon? At the coffee house by Book Marks. I’ll wear black.”
“Sounds great.”
Wait…Macbeth, I didn’t write my number in that book!