Illustration by Jan A. Igoe
There’s a reason my friend Anita isn’t married. For 29 years, she’s been trying to order the perfect mate off a Chinese menu, where she can pick something from column A, and something else from column B. She’s been seeing some great guys lately, but an hour later, she still wants another date.
Anita loves Robert’s brain, but would like it served with Danny’s wallet and Jason’s body (hot and spicy). Until she finds that combo platter, she’ll go the all-you-can-date route.
Mortal men aren’t for everyone. I’ve been reading about a woman who wrote them off altogether and married the Eiffel Tower. She changed her name to Erika La Tour Eiffel, out of respect for her tall, strong, French ... I’m searching for the right word here ... man-ument ?
To some, that might seem a little odd, but Anita gets it. “He’ll never run off with his executive assistant or pitch a hissy fit because he wants a bigger boat,” she huffs. “And Erika will never get stuck sleeping on the downstairs futon because La Tour snored her right out of bed.” (True, that.)
Eija-Riitta Berliner-Mauer would probably agree. The 57-year-old Swedish woman, who also had a brief affair with a beguiling guillotine, found marital bliss with the Berlin wall. Even though he’s quite a bit younger, “True love can easily transcend a few years,” she says on her website, berlinermauer.se.
Berliner-Mauer has been forced to tolerate a long-distance love affair, since her better half doesn’t travel much. “My husband’s job was to divide East and West Berlin. He is retired now,” she wrote of the wall she adores. “Like every married couple, we have our ups and downs. We even made it through the terrible disaster of November 9, 1989, when my husband was subjected to frenzied attacks by a mob.”
If you’re a guy and you find this strange, it’s only because walls don’t have wheels. We all know inanimate soul mates aren’t just a girl thing. Every day, several thousand males— all in deep, committed relationships with their cars—are tenderly buffing their darlings’ chrome curves, often in plain view of their wives. Mechaphilia, they call it. That’s physical attraction to autos, helicopters, Harleys and most any mode of transportation, including Volkswagen Beetles.
Mechaphilia afflicts many families. My brother is a great husband who is madly in love with his wife, but would leave her in a heartbeat if the right car made him an offer. Grounds for divorce: Lamborghini Murcielago.
Meanwhile, Anita is still moaning about a lack of suitable mates. So I’m packing her in the car and heading upstate, where I’ve located a match that meets all her criteria:
1) Tall, strong and dependable
2) Has a steady job with a future
3) Loyal and unlikely to chase other women
I’m taking her to meet the Gaffney Peachoid, if he’s still single. The fourstory water tower has been derided by some for looking more like a body part than a peach, but Anita doesn’t need to know that. I just hope they’ll hit it off. If not, maybe we can find a good Chinese place nearby.
Jan A. Igoe is a writer from Horry County who enjoys matchmaking, but won’t turn pro until she sees how the peach thing turns out. Share your experience with fruit and monuments at HumorMe@SCLiving.coop .