Fishing for Joy
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I received an email at the beginning of March. It was from a lady in South Africa. She said she had seen my profile on Facebook – that’s where you can tell all the good things about yourself, add a couple of ‘recent’ pictures and everyone knows what you look like and believes what you tell them. One of the aspects of my profile says I’m 65 and I am single.
The lady wrote, Hi, I like your profile; I would like to know more about you. Please write to me.
Her picture closely resembled a mature-looking Angelina Jolie. She was 43.
With the printed picture on the wall above my computer, holding my breath, after 4 years separated and now officially single, I hastily wrote back and told her everything. I had come second in the long jump when I was in junior school. I won the silver cup for being the best scout of the year in the village of Ilford at 13. I was a writer and an award-winning photographer. I could impersonate someone who sounded like Jimmy Durante and Satchmo. I had Type O blood, and had an original Beatles’ headscarf. I had my own business and 3-storey house, and I loved sushi— I mean, I didn’t leave anything out. After 4 years single and now a beautiful lady wants to know more about me?
Her father had forced her to marry his partner’s son in Capetown and after a daughter and a marriage in hell, she said, they divorced 10 years ago. She saw many things in my profile that she desired in a soulmate. After four years of separation and meditation I’ve learned what a soulmate should be, what a marriage should consist of, and listed all those principles in my profile. She dearly coveted such a relationship. Me too.
So we wrote emails beginning in early March. And we agreed on everything – from interests to intimacy. Spirituality and religion. From Bach to U2. Decaf Sumatra coffee with one sugar. I was in love.
I did not want to be let down. I said, Joy, I’m 65 and you’re 43. She said it doesn’t matter, it’s the heart. And, there is no age in a caress, she wrote. I said, but I cannot leave here, I have life-long friends and a business here. That’s o.k. she said, she would come to Canada.
She was prepared to come to be with me. But she said even though she was absolutely sure that we were divinely supposed to be together, all the many emails and letters we had exchanged could not convince us other than a face-to-face, heart-to-heart meeting – so she would use her vacation from her job as a nurse in the De Groote, Capetown Hospital and come to see me to make sure. She said she would go to the Canadian visa office and see what she had to do. I was very impressed and gratified.
However, her next email said the papers were so involved that it would take a year to fill and submit but she could get a visa through her travel agent Bule Mgongelwa, who she said would be emailing me. His first email had some questions for me. I answered them. His next email had more questions. The final question—“Will you please send Ms. Joy’s fare money by credit card to this bank?” and he gave the name and address.
“Mr. Mgongelwa,” I wrote back, “there is a misunderstanding, Ms. Joy will be paying herself.”
I then received an email from Joy saying she had been to Mr. Mgongelwa’s office to pick up her papers and she was embarrassed and disappointed when she found that I hadn’t paid for the ticket. I said if you want to come, borrow the money and I’ll help you when you are here. She then sent an email asking if I could spare half.
I haven’t written back. I haven’t heard from Joy.
About 15 years ago, my company received a phone call from a phone company called Kingston Dial who needed our service. I sent Doug to this phone company. When he was inside the office, he heard this rather hot and intimate voice on the phone describing what she would very sensually do to the person on the other end of the phone. When Doug came into view of the voice, she was 300lbs., a hairy chin, had hair in curlers, and we realized Kingston Dial was a phone-in sex business.
Somewhat sheepishly I am persuaded that this is another such situation. It is quite likely that the Joy behind the emails does a search for ‘Singles’ on the Internet, then sends out beautiful photos as the primary bait. Then tailoring the email exchanges to the profile preferences and likes of her targets, reels in the fish, sets the hook and once set, asks for the money. I’m sure Joy receives her fair share of the profits. I’m persuaded that Joy could also be 300lbs, have a hairy chin and more than likely is a man.
My search for joy continues . . .