INTERNET DATING Part IV

An exceptionally alarming thing has happened. Bloggiana logged into her internet dating site last night, typed in HonkyDonkey her new alias, MuleJewel her new password and found a message, a wink, a card and a virtual bunch of flowers from a candidate by the name of PokeyMokey.

It is some time now since Bloggiana called herself SweatyNun and what with the fiasco of TrannieV and his spotted dress, we were hoping that things on the internet dating front might have improved somewhat. After that episode, Bloggiana and I carefully went through her profile. Any references to dirty personal habits, any allusion to her sexuality or religious tendencies were removed. Time we chimed in unison to take the thing seriously, time to stop taking prisoners, start making friends.

Now that I think about it, I am not sure where the name HonkyDonkey came from. Years ago, one of us had a grandmother who had a friend who had a donkey stud. So perhaps it was a nod in the direction of nostalgie de la boue. (And yes, the lead beast of the stud was called Spot the Stallion.) On the other hand, there was something appealing anyway about naming Bloggiana after a noisy long-eared beast who hated the rain. Somehow that seems to sum up my friend admirably. And in the meantime, we thought it might put off any further WallytheWeirdoes out there who fancied a roll in the side aisles with SweatyNun.

But chance is a fine thing and now we have unearthed PokeyMokey. PokeyMokey’s strapline is From the banks and brays. Does this mean he is a Scot with money but no sense of humour? A Scot who can’t spell? Or just a Scot with a genuine donkey infatuation? Which could be worse, we ask ourselves, moaning aloud, reaching for the roll-ups and groping for the Value vodka.

Bloggiana and I read on through PokeyMokey’s profile. PokeyMokey alleges to be six foot one but we are not sure how far he is taking the donkey analogy. Perhaps that’s from the tip of his ears to the end of his biblical tail, we wonder. He says his educational status is further, his occupational status is other, his character is intelligent and persistent and although he is a man over 45, he boasts a full head of hair. Bloggiana and I continue surfing, trying we hope to unearth the real PokeyMokey. What exactly makes this man tick, we ask ourselves out loud. As we do so, a funny pinging sound comes out of the computer. Bloggiana jumps and I do too and then we see a little heart is throbbing – like a little throbbing heart – in the corner of Bloggiana’s screen. Drifting her mouse over the top of the heart, Bloggiana sees the message coming up in font size twenty-4 right across the middle of her vision. It reads PokeyMokey has sent you a message. Breathless, riveted, tremulous, we send Bloggiana’s mouse scuttling to her inbox. Not many words, we note at first, and certainly not many adjectives, we note next.

HonkyDonkey, it reads, I’d like to kiss your ass. Bloggiana drops the mouse as though it were a glowing lump of coal.