Mail Order Bride

Kamilia Martin was sick and tired of life never going her way. She graduated in the top of her class in high school and college. Many thought that with her brains she lacked something in the common sense department, but others found that part of her charm. She was loved by all with a bubbly personality and charming wit; she was the person that everyone wanted as their friend. With all this going for her why couldn’t she find someone to love?

“I’m so sick of this damn town,” she muttered to herself as she threw her purse down on the couch.

“What’s up?” her roommate, Quincy asked.

“I’m so sick of living here!”

“Here as in here in this apartment with me or here as in Van Wert?” Quincy asked with a smile. They’d been roommates since college and loved living together. He knew that Kamie was happy with the living arrangement. They were the perfect roommates. Quincy was gay, it was like having a boyfriend without actually having one. Whenever Kamie needed a date she called on Quincy. They had their own little world and others didn’t always understand it.

Kamie threw herself down on the couch, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I fuckin’ hate Ohio! Why in God’s name was I ever born here? Why couldn’t I have been born somewhere warm and sunny … like Florida!”

“C’mon sweetie, you know that moving to Florida wouldn’t be any better than living here with me.” Quincy got out of the recliner that he was in and moved to sit by her on the couch. “’Sides, what would you do without all this wonderful snow and freezing weather?”

“That’s it Quince, I’m moving! I’m moving to Florida!” She quickly stood and walked to the computer. “I’m gonna find a job in Florida. I’m going to get out of this hell hole town!”

“Sure you are,” Quincy said, before he left to go back to his room. “You’ll never do it,” he added before shutting his door.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Kamie said, logging on to the internet. She opened up Monster.com and started looking for a job. Hours later, she’d answered tons of ads and even posted her resume on numerous job search web sites.

“Hungry?” Quincy asked standing in the doorway to the living room.

“Chinese?” Kamie asked not looking up from the computer screen.

“Broccoli and Beef?”

“You know it.”

“I’ll order if you pick it up.”

“Sure, just let me finish this last email.” Kamie reread the ad that she’d found. Wanted: Mail Order Bride. Total business proposition. Applicant must be fairly beautiful, willing to have children, open to an open relationship. Job also entails help running a self-owned business. Must be willing to move to Florida. Must be willing to sign contract including prenuptial agreement.

Kamie turned in her chair. “Quince, am I beautiful?”

“You know you are!” he said coming up to her and kissing the top of her head. “And if I didn’t like boys I’d be all over you.”

“Really?”
“C’mon silly, have you even looked at yourself in the mirror. You’re hot babe! Those huge green eyes, high cheekbones, flawless skin, and naturally curly red hair. You have the body that women spend lots of money to have. Look at those gorgeous breasts. Men love those,” he laughed, “or so I’ve been told.”

“I don’t understand it then, why can’t I find someone to love?”

“Because they’re intimidated by the brains and beauty. Men can’t handle having a beautiful and smart women in their lives.” Quincy looked at the computer screen, quickly reading the ad. “You can’t seriously be thinking of answering this ad. It’s so chauvinistic, barbaric even!”

“What, it’s a job. I’m at least going to check into it more.” She stood and walked over to where her purse and coat were. “I’ll be back in a flash with dinner.”

“Okay, but we’re going to discuss this more when you get home.”

“Fine,” she said letting the apartment door close shut behind her.

They ad was forgotten as they feasted on their dinner and watched old reruns of “Press Your Luck” on the Game Show Network. “No whammies!” Kamie yelled with a mouthful of broccoli.

“This is one of the best game shows ever!” Quincy said taking a bite out of his egg roll.

“I can’t say that I have a favorite game show, but whoever thought to make a channel that plays all games shows is a god in my book.”

“This from the woman who wants to go to ‘The Price Is Right’ for her honeymoon.”

“Hey, Bob Barker is a god! Why wouldn’t you want to spend your honeymoon with Bob Barker?”

“Don’t you want to spend your honeymoon with someone you at least love?” he asked not only referring to the comment about the much older game show host, but also trying to bring the ad back up for discussion.

“Quince, I’m almost 30, if I don’t get married soon I might as well not get married.” She shoved her chopsticks into the white container holding her dinner and stood. “I’m going to answer the ad, Quince. What do I have to loose?”

Your freedom, he thought but took another bite of his own dinner without saying anything to her.

Once at the computer Kamie clicked on the link for the email address. She contemplated what she wanted to say. Quickly typing up a cover letter she attached it along with her resume and a recent picture. She hit send and watched as the email screen disappeared. “There, done,” she said returning to her Chinese food.

“I hope you know what you are doing.”

“I haven’t taken the job. Hell I haven’t even been offered the job,” she quickly pointed out. The game shows had changed and Dick Clark was on the screen explaining the simple rules of $10,000 Pyramid. “How can that man stay so young looking?”

“I heard they embalmed him in the seventies,” Quince said without hesitation.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Kamie replied with a mock laugh.

Their light repertoire was interrupted with the ever recognizable, ‘you got mail’. Kamie jumped up and checked her email. “Oh my gawd! He emailed me back. He wants me to fly to Florida this week to meet him.”

“And you’re going to go aren’t you?” He really didn’t need an answer he knew she was going. “Well does this guy have a name?”

“Perlman. Lou Perlman.”

Mail Order Bride >