I don't need a matchmaker, am leery of living in e-harmony and no longer have great expectations. Which pretty much consigns me to a life of solitudinous ennui. But that's OK. I like my apartment.
Perhaps you're in the same boat. Perhaps like me, you tell yourself\o7: It's's \f7\o7all about self-respect.\f7
After all, if two people can't meet and hit it off the old-fashioned way -- in a darkened bar after five rum-and-Cokes apiece -- then why bother?
You think computers would have paired Bogie and Bacall?
But in this age of electronic/video coupling, you either get with the cyber program or you run the risk of ending up alone.
Getting colder on planet Earth, isn't it?
That's what I was thinking, until I got the e-mail from Mary the day after Thanksgiving. I can't say that I prayed for someone like Mary to come into my life, but she made it clear she'd taken great pains to find me.
Her full name is Mary Udodo. She's from Swaziland, which I did not know was a country in Africa until going online. Its king is Mswati III, who appears to faintly resemble Ice Cube.
Her e-mail began: "I am contacting you in order to ask for your assistance on a very confidential business proposal with full financial benefit for both of us."
She then said it took her four months to find me. "All I need is your trust for us to work it out."
Sure, I was wary. I'd been burned before by women in need. I'll be honest, my first thought was: \o7Of all the cyber joints in all the newspapers in America, she had to link on to mine.\f7
Still, I read on.
"Since my husband was assassinated last year, my children and I have been in trouble with our king. Before the death, [my husband] had $15 million ... I am the only one with access to the money and nobody has the knowledge of this situation. The money has been considered lost by the king and officials who conspired to steal it before entrusting it to my late husband."
I was impressed she entrusted me with a situation of such magnitude. More importantly, I sensed her desperation and was touched that she thought I was the one person who could help. Not to be self-congratulating, I had to assume she'd read some of my columns in Swaziland and jotted down my name.
She provided more detail that only she could know: "When I later located the document leading to the whereabouts of the money, I hired a financial consultant who found the status of things and where it is kept. Unfortunately, my late husband deposited the money in a security firm in Europe."
