I have hit romantic rock bottom. I know that most of you have read my past article about the guy who pretended he was "not in that place right now" and therefore do not think it is possible that I have met an even bigger loser since then. Well, my dear, sweet, naïve, readers it is.

I was dumped via Friendster.

Take a moment to let the meaning catch up with the words. Now read it again, with feeling.


There are probably some questions that need to be answered before I continue sharing my story. Fortunately, I am so in tune with the needs of my readers that I have already asked and answered them for you.

Mindy, do people still go on Friendster?!
Yes, apparently they do.

Do you go on Friendster?
Every so often I will get an e-mail from someone asking to be my friend. So, I log on and add them.

Can I be your friend? Will you add me?
Yes, of course I will add you. I want to be popular and loved.

Why do you date losers?
I tend to canoodle with pseudo-nice, selfish men that pursue me aggressively. It's not a Freudian thing; I think I'm just lazy.

Wait, I'm confused. You were dumped via Friendster?
Yes, yes I was.

Do you think you can you tell me the details of what happened by means of one of your columns?
Yes, I think I can.

The experience I am about to share may shock some of my more sensitive readers. Others may feel anger, confusion, and really, really sorry for me. Unfortunately, I cannot sugarcoat the horror of what I am about to relay, but I want you all to know that I am okay. I will be okay.

I started dating someone a little before Christmas. He was really nice, and fun, and we had chemistry. Yet, after a month I was still deciding if I liked him enough to want to spend more time with him. Things were moving along and I was happy that my romantic future now contained a dim flicker of hope. That is when he gradually became unavailable and a bit distant. Then, he stood me up . . .three times. My biggest pet peeve is when someone immaturely breaks plans. With no call or e-mail to apologize the third time, I washed my hands of the whole thing and moved on. I may be an old fashioned romantic who sometimes falls hard for guys and fails miserably at playing hard to get, but I am not stupid, and I know what I want. If a guy does not act like he wants be with me, I let him go.

Early last week I received the following e-mail:

Hey Mindy,

What's up babe? I know you haven't heard from me in awhile. Sorry.
I thought maybe we could go for coffee n' catch up. But, I'm so busy with work n' stuff.
So, I think the following link will explain why I've been MIA.

[Link to his Friendster profile?!]

Good luck with everything,
the kind of name a guy with very small balls would have]

I read his e-mail in dismay. I was so upset. I could not believe I actually hooked up with a guy who uses the expression "'MIA' in connection to dating me. I put those thoughts aside and re-read his poignant words.

"But, I think the following link will explain why I've been MIA."

I was confused. How would his Friendster profile explain why our relationship ended? It was then that I guiltily realized that I didn't even know this guy was on Friendster. I lectured myself sternly, "Mindy, you stupid, stupid whore. You loose excuse of a woman. You apathetic, little slut. How can you go out with a guy for over a month and not know what internet sites he frequents?!" I re-read the e-mail.

"But, I think the following link . . ."

Why? Why does this guy need me to see his profile on Friendster? I stared at the random e-mail again while contemplating what his mystery profile might contain.


Gender: Male

Status: Mindy, I'm Gay. It's not you, it's me.


Gender: Male

Status: Mindy, I've moved to Japan to find
inner peace. Sorry for not calling.


Gender: Male

Status: Mindy, just checked in to rehab.
I'm gonna beat this and then we can be
together forever!

The suspense was building within me. I'd never been so excited to see a Friendster profile in my life. I clicked on the link with anticipation. His profile soon appeared on my computer screen. I was hungry for information; I was ready to learn some awful truth. Yet, I was quickly disappointed. There was no secret note informing me that he was gay, in rehab, or moving to another country. In fact, there was nothing in it at all that explained why this guy abruptly lost interest. I took another look. Suddenly four words caught my attention. I eyed them the way a young girl eyes the signs of her first STD.

Status: In a Relationship

He's in a Relationship? Oh no, is this his way of asking me to be his girlfriend? No, this doesn't make sense I mean why would he""Oh my god, this is his way of letting me know he has a girlfriend. Ha! No. That's not possible. Can someone really be this pathetic? This has to be a joke. No guy, over the age of 15, can really believe that updating his profile on Friendster is an acceptable way to inform people of a new girlfriend.

These were my thoughts as I stared at his "'new' profile with a mixture of pity, disgust, and the realization that I was taking part in the lowest form of man's inability to communicate. Yet, I had to admit his method had the potential to become quite fashionable. I suddenly saw the future: a whole new world of romantic rejection via internet profiles. Men and women across the world would never have to go out for awkward "'lets meet for coffee and catch up' dates again. One link to a profile could forever destroy countless, painful minutes of small talk.

I decided not to respond to his e-mail. What could I have possibly said?

I just checked out your Friendster profile. Congrats on being " In a Relationship." Don't worry about being MIA. We had a nice, casual couple a months, but I was never really that crazy about you.

Later that night as I was finishing off a loaf of bread and watching some awful, yet addicting show on MTV about sweet sixteen's, I was still in shock. After all, I was given the boot by means of an internet profile. I had just experienced something so pathetic, and so inexplicably lame that I was still not sure it really happened. Yet, as I wolfed down the last piece of bread I could not help but feel a bit relieved. I'll admit that I was not flattered to find out that a guy I was dating suddenly had a new girlfriend, but the way he revealed this information to me made him so unattractive that I was not the least bit sad to see him go. I sat there""the constipation from the bread already gathering force"" and thought about some of the recent losers that have taken up my time. I sat there, and thought about the holiday coming up and how society expects me to feel lonely and desperate for a man. I sat there and felt terrifically free and so happy to be on my own.

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