“Calistoga.”

The bartender nodded and handed me the small bottle of water, but never spoke. Even when I left a ten dollar bill on the bar he changed it without telling me how much the drink was. He returned five singles and I wished I had ordered a beer. Five bucks for water? Only in LA. I couldn’t believe I actually answered an ad. Loneliness can make a person quite odd or at least get them into odd situations.

I was waiting for Miriam. Her ad said “Can’t believe you’re even looking? Can’t believe I’m even writing! 25 year old (5’ 10” brown hair, brown eyes) professional who still knows how to have fun; loves cooking, reading and movies. Seeking basically the same.” Simple and direct, she actually sounded kind of cute. One thing bothered me, however. Most of the other ads mentioned weight and while hers was noticeably missing, I called her anyway. Besides, even though all the other women included their weight, it didn’t mean they were telling the truth because no one in the LA singles scene seemed to be over 130 pounds.

A few single women came in and my heart rushed every time. Even though I’d never met this woman, my primitive mating responses kicked in and once again I was a twelve-year-old taking Holly Andrews to the fireworks, continually wiping the sweat from my hand onto my jean cut-off shorts.

A woman entered and I knew it was her. I immediately looked her up and down before she knew it is me she had come to meet. She’s wasn’t that fat. Not an Elite model, but full and round, quite sexy at my first glance.

I moved to her face and caught her smiling at me. She was pretty. Nothing like a pretty smiling girl coming at you then sitting down next to you at a bar. She ordered a Bombay martini. She brushed her long wavy light brown hair behind her shoulders. She wore glasses. Still the bartender said nothing and only waited for more money. I removed another five from my wallet and he slipped it away as I lay it on top of my five singles that sat hopelessly not enough to pay for the martini.

We did the cordial introductions and I knew she noticed my surprise to her beauty. Finally, I relented. “You’re very pretty.” This was the wrong thing to say, but I couldn’t turn away from her lovely face with the perfectly round brown mole centering her right cheek without saying something. I was mating. It took over. I became a complete idiot.

What made me think this was going to be easy? What made me think it was going to be me rejecting her, that whoever would enlist an ad must be a loser that I would carelessly discard? Except now I was the loser because the best thing I could say next was, “Would you like another martini?” She had taken only one sip from the one that glistened in front of her. But she smiled and said she’d like to finish the one she had first. I laughed, finally relieving myself of this tortuous tension. “I’m really not such an idiot, but I just wasn’t expecting someone like you. I mean, you seem so...well, together.”

“I am,” she said and then laughed. She pushed her drink away and stood. “You know, you seem really nice and I feel horrible doing this, but now that I’m here I think maybe this personal ad thing was a bad idea. I just can’t handle it, it’s kind of weird.”

“I’m not that bad,” I said in complete denial.

“Of course you’re not, it has nothing to do with you, I just, I don’t know. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you give me your number and when I feel more, I don’t know, confidant or something, I’ll call you.”

I asked the mute bartender for a pen and he mutely handed me one back. I wrote my number on a napkin and handed it to her. I couldn’t think of anything else to say that would make her understand I was a normal person.

“Bye,” she said, “it was really nice meeting you. I’ll call you.”

“Bye,” I returned and ordered another mineral water.