dating in 2 dimension

So I have this friend. Mag, let's call her. Mag is a witty businesswoman for a multi-national company who spends 1/4 of her waking moments on a plane or in close proximity to an airport. Suffice to say, Mag does not have too much time for meeting men, nor does she stay in one place long enough to get to know someone in depth. Enters enthusiastic friend from the other end of the world who hooks Mag up with a male friend, GG (I'm sorry but GG it has to be), with whom Mag begins an e-mail friendship with. Mind you, not instant messaging, not interactive Facebook, just plain, good old-fashioned e-mail.

Mag and GG agree not to show each other pictures of themselves. As anyone who has chatted with strangers on the internet knows, this is a slightly unsettling yet somehow comforting condition of online dating/friendships. You wonder whether the person you spend a good fraction of day writing to is bald and weights less than you do, or is gay and he just doesn't know it yet. At the same time, you don't worry about being judged for the extra pounds you've put on or not washing your hair for a day or two. That sense of security allows you to expose yourself on another level and talk freely and openly about everything else. And of course, there's always that element of mysteriousness of the unknown, which sucks you into a huge bubble of imagination that keeps your creative mind occupied in, say, budget meetings.

Things proceed smoothly in writing. They talk about their jobs, families, and hobbies, careful not to get too personal because these topics of intimacy bring two people too close together, and that is never desirable when you don't know what the other person looks like. This may sound somewhat superficial, but it really is a precautionary measure as we as a collective generation do not bode well with the possibility of "getting hurt again." For Mag and GG, this also did not happen because the chemistry just wasn't there sometimes, and you cannot force these things. Still, the e-mails become an integral part of their lives, and they develop an emotional dependency on each other for companionship, and silent understanding of how this back-and-forth e-mailing is to be conducted. Et cetera, et cetera.

As we know, these relationships/friendships are all happy and nice until one of us has a bad day and misunderstands the other. Unlike instant messaging where it's easier to detect such change in tone and therefore easier to rectify, e-mails allow you enough time to seriously misconstrue meanings and blow things out of proportion. Such might have been the case for Mag and GG, after GG writes her a vivid description of how he would like to sashay (he did not say that, but I have been dying to use the word) into the sunset hand-in-hand with his (nameless and faceless) soul mate, and Mag returns an unintended less-than-romantic response that might have killed any passion that GG might have harbored. I say this because GG abruptly stops e-mailing Mag, with a brief explanation that he has food poisoning/diarrhea that has him confined to bed/toilet and therefore has no access to computer.

A worried Mag sends consecutive "I'm worried" e-mails to GG, and 7 days have gone by with no response. Mag thus arrives at the conclusion that GG is dead or has lost interest. She searches online for any trace of this person and *ding!* finds a picture of GG. He is certainly not bald, most likely not gay as he is holding a chick in the pic, but there is a slight possibility that scrawny GG weights around the same range as Mag, which is a definite no-no as she likes her men fleshy. He's not bad looking, but really not her type. Mag's gay friend comments that it's like dating someone you meet on Facebook with a big ? where a profile picture should be. You would never even begin a conversation with a stranger with a ? for a face, would you? I don't know. But somehow with a face to a name (and a lot of personal information), it becomes easier for Mag to let go of the fact that GG is dead/has lost interest. Mag reflects and says with endearing frankness that "we as the human race are the shallow scums of the Earth, with me on top of the list."

I hope she doesn't beat herself up for it. After all, beauty IS in the eye of the beholder. This gets proven true because Mag's new romantic interest, towering at 183cm and weighing possibly 2 Mags, is shaved bald ("shaved" makes a world of difference apparently) and an eccentric and artsy dresser (attire has thus included silver pants, lace/snakeskin hat, and gold Thai silk wrap...yes guys, that's a skirt). Mag describes him as pimp-looking although his real occupation is far from such, and likes how he is so free and does not care what others think of him. Not exactly the banking executive in a suit who will walk her into the sunset, but BP (Buff Pimp) makes her heart skip a beat. And more importantly, he comes in the 3 dimension.

So I guess it all works out somehow, so long as GG is not dead.