"In a Relationship"

Ron Terada

Thursday, the weeklies come out in the hometown, and more often than not I find myself franticly rustling through one of the bigger publications, bypassing the politics and pop culture features to get to the "I Saw You" section. It's absolutely tantalizing. You can peruse ads where, for a small fee, readers can describe someone they spotted earlier in the week, with the hope of contacting them. So they can meet. So they can fall in love.

Every Thursday the back pages teem with the possibility that maybe there is someone out there that saw you, and is so desperate to see you again, they went through all the trouble of placing an ad. Well, I am lost, and ultimately, need to be found. So Thursday is a day I often ritualize. Every Thursday, I wake up early, even dressing up for the occasion, just in case someone sees me reading the I saw you ads. I browse the headlines for events that I was at, for bus routes I ride on a regular basis, and the streets I frequent. I get excited when I see a reference I can identify with, only to be disappointed when the description of the guy is obviously not me, "skateboard, tall with long black hair, and the palest of blue eyes, you took my breath away." Although, even if one of my interactions with women were to show up in print, this is likely how it would transpire:

"I saw you maniacally traversing 6th Ave. In fact you almost ran right into me, idiot. You had freakish features that reminded me of a muppett! Just wanted to let you know that I don't give a shit about the architecture of leisure, and no, I don't smoke in bed. Please, stop following me."

With only a few ads each week, the chances of finding true love amongst the horoscopes, escort ads, civic announcements, and listings for carpet cleaning are minimal at best. So I'll keep reading and dreaming, people are falling in love all over this city, the ads are there to prove it. And, in the meantime, at least there's Friendster, until the next Thursday roles around.