Dearest GameStop Guy:
I don't know your name, but I want to thank you for making my night last night. Your boldness and chivalry truly moved me. I felt you were interested in more than the Afterglow AW.2 Nunchuk I was eyeing in the novelty section when I looked up and arrested your gaze. But please, please know that when you asked me, "Are you single?" I was completely caught off guard. I hope you didn't take personal offense at my hesitance. You could not have possibly known how complicated the answer.
You see, I haven't been asked that question in a very long time, being not-single for the last last fifteen years. And, legally, I'm not single yet, but technically, I am. Regardless, GameStop is hardly the place to go into the nuances surrounding the delicacies of divorce. So when I answered, "Yes...I mean no..." that was the God's honest truth. My ambiguity had nothing to do with you, or the fact that I wasn't remotely attracted to you. Nothing personal, really. I'm sure you're a very kind, compassionate man, and I probably made a mistake I'll long regret by passing up a lifetime of playing Dungeons & Dragons until we turn old and gray and can no longer gracefully wield a nunchuk to defend the fifteen level of Hades, or whatever...But truly, thank you for making my night, because it was so very flattering to have a man show interest in me when I looked like death warmed over. And it was especially reaffirming to know you were inspired to such gallantry after overhearing my conversation with Jack—discussing the merits of saving one's money to buy Madden 11 for Wii, rather than splurging on a cheap, used $4 GameBoy game. If that turned you on, well, buddy, maybe I am the girl for you.
And many thanks, too, for the conversation-starter you provided Jack and me after we drove away. Because of you, I was able to broach a very sensitive topic that I didn't think I'd have to discuss with my nine-year-old son for a quite a while. He thought it ever-so amusing that Mommy was hit on at GameStop and made obnoxious smoochy noises all the way home. But your boldness prompted a serious talk about how "Mommy could date now." When asked how he would feel if I had a boyfriend, Jack responded "It'd be cool!" so promptly and enthusiastically it made me wonder if was just telling me what he thought I wanted to hear.
"So, really, Jack," I said, digging deep. "It wouldn't bother you if I went out on a date? It's okay, you know. I don't have to go on dates."
"Mom," he said, earnestly. "It's okay. Really. I mean, you haven't been on a date in, like, fifty years! C'mon, it's about time!"
So although I shall probably never see you again, I wanted you to know that I will never forget you, my GameStop Romeo. And I wish you well, really I do. I hope someday you meet your match in that very GameStop and live happily ever after, playing D & D together for the rest of your days.
XO- B
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