More than once, Cupid shot my arrow at another woman
Cupid's arrow
I know the one-in-charge. Everybody knows him, that despicable dwarf with his bow and poisoned arrows, flying around and causing pain to everyone. And he claims to be the one responsible for love. I don't know about the rest of you, but as far as men are concerned, I know only two conditions – pain or no pain (when I'm alone). It's not only that he is sadistic, he is also a drunk. Otherwise, how would you explain his embarrassing missed shots?
When I heard that once again Valentine's Day is on the way, I immediately called in to complain. First of all, an advertising executive from Georgia invented it. Secondly, when someone hands me a dish that doesn't taste good, I complain and send it back. I don't see any reason not to do the same about days I don't like.
And if there isn't a waitress around, I get on a cab and complain to the miserable, unsuspecting driver.
But this time I know the one in charge. Everyone knows him, that despicable dwarf with his dammed bow and poisoned arrows, flying around and causing pain to everyone.
He claims to be the one responsible for love. I don't know about the rest of you, but as far as men are concerned, I know only two conditions – pain or no pain (when I'm alone). It's not only that he is sadistic, he is also a drunk. Otherwise, how do you explain his embarrassing missed shots?
More than once, he shot my arrow at another woman, and vice versa. Now usually, I am way too wiped out and smothered across the floor to look him up and kick him in the head. Or perhaps make an effigy and burn it in public.
But this time I held myself at bay. The last arrow missed me by a few millimeters. Well, I grabbed it with my left hand and left it in my pencil holder.
When no one knows who is responsible for something, somehow the local municipality is involved. You know who they are, that group of landscape coiffeurs, that decorating committee that sits over there in the flash office building. And if you walk into the building, you find it is full of unattended telephone switchboards, and colorful paper chains hanging down from the ceiling.
‘I want to speak to someone about Valentine's Day’
To make it short, I ended up calling the local municipal dispatch. It seemed like a safe bet.
Their answering machine picked up the call: "You've reached Tel Aviv-Jaffa municipality. The switchboard works 24 hours a day. Your call is important to us. Please wait (I did).
"For inquiries on city taxes, water bills, parking tickets and towing fines, please press 1; for city hall phone directory and information on local events, please press 2; for engineering director and infrastructure matters, please press 3; for municipal information, please press 4; to report a public hazard, please press 5 or wait for the operator."
(An hour later)
"Hello," answered someone who sounded like he'd had it with life, and I had interrupted him in the middle of some tedious vein slashing.
"Hello to you," I answered in an efficient tone, and thought to myself his mood would assure mutual understanding. "I want to report a disaster on a world scale."
"Ok," he said. "What is it – sewage problem, neighbors or a dead cat?"
"None of the above. I want to speak to someone about Valentine's Day. It is outdated; it makes those who are loveless feel bad, and it is really time to find out if love really does exist or not. I think it was taken off the shelves in the beginning of 2002, so actually anyone who didn't meet someone beforehand, doesn't stand a chance. I want to talk to the general manager of this whole thing."
"Lady," he said while ruffling through some paperwork. "I am sorry to interfere with your personal life. But you sound somewhat bitter, and let me tell you, you are wrong as well. There is love in the world, face it. People get married all the time."
"Yeah, sure, that's because they are tired of waiting around, and they've reached the age of 30. And in two to three months, they stop having sex."
"That's not true, madam. People do have sex, and Valentine's Day is a very important reminder of something that should not be forgotten."
"Ah," I nervously huffed. "So that's why it feels like Holocaust Remembrance Day? And if you don't mind, stop calling me 'madam' – it makes me feel old."
"So I guess you're past 30."
"Why do you have to insult me, why? All I did was call in to report a public hazard. This is a hazard on a world scale, and not just for me – but for 50 percent of the population. And besides, you don't ask a woman her age."
"I normally don't do that, but you just told me not to call you madam."
‘I have never been a tease’
"Cut it out, smart boy. Can you transfer me to your superior?" He giggled to himself, and said "madam (he stressed the 'madam', the bastard), sorry but I am all alone here."
"That's exactly my point," I started to cry. "I am also all alone here. And it's beginning to really suck!"
"Madam, are you crying?" I didn't have the strength to answer his 'madam' redirect, and anyways, talking with the local municipal switchboard makes me feel like I'm in retirement.
He stopped talking as well. There was silence. He was probably fumbling through his manual, trying to figure out what to do in these sorts of cases, and so he put me on hold. Daniel Solomon was just playing on the switchboard radio, and that definitely made things worse.
Then he came back again with renewed force: "So here's how it's going to go down, madam. About love, I've asked around, and to find love you have to take risks. And for your information, it is a felony to claim it does not exist, just because you couldn't find some, let alone to doubt all the relationships in the world just because yours have been awful.
"And you definitely cannot ask for Valentine's Day to be abolished. Sorry, but I can't help. But I can help out with any funny smells, so please check again and let me know – is it a sewage problem, the neighbors or a dead cat?"
I gave up. I told him to come over to my home. I took the arrow, the one that just missed me not too long ago, and lay down in a sexy pose, stabbing it in my heart. The poor bureaucrat, he dedicated his time to me, and I didn't want him to feel as if he wasted his better years on me, and is now left with nothing.
I promised, and I will live up to my word. He asked for a corpse, and he'll get a corpse. I might be bitter, but I have never been a tease.
