My Best Breakup SMS

Sometimes you go on a date or two with someone and while he or she may be very nice, for whatever reason, you do not want to go out again. It happens and some of us might be afraid to admit this to the person that we no longer wish to see. Such situations can lead to confusion, frustration and accepting dates out of guilt.

I have therefore applied the management technique of the “yes sandwich” to breakups via SMS. I think it is kind, clear and effective. Feel free to use it!

“Hello [Insert name here], I had a great time with you on [day you went out]! Not only are you adorable, you are very nice! I really like you but I do not want to move to girlfriend/boyfriend mode. I don’t really know why, I must not be ready or maybe there was not the right chemistry. I hope you are not upset. It was lovely meeting you!

I think it’s better to be honest. I wish you all the best with your [insert current project here].”

An then, with a clear conscience, on to the next!

-Albany Eden


Dabbling in Adult Entertainment

photo2The lone log cabin in the forest went dark. I wished I had brought something warmer than just my sheer nightie. My bare feet sunk into the sheepskin rug and I felt its soft caress between my toes. It was getting cold, and as the sun set, I feared being in the dark, waiting for the repairman who was coming to fix the electricity. I found a scented candle and as I lit it, accidentally dripped hot wax down my neck; it burned but also felt good. A wolf howled and I could hear the owls. I got scared and began to shiver. The first stars were appearing in the night sky and the cedar scent of the candle was intoxicating. Then the doorbell rang. It was the repairman.

He was burly and had that country rugged masculinity about him. He smelled of freshly cut pine and white musk. I could tell that he had skilled hands: they were strong and solid. His presence suddenly made me feel safe, but somehow I was still shivering.

“I have been waiting a long time,” I told him as I approached. He seemed to notice the spot of candle wax that had stained the silk on my body but quickly looked up at my eyes.

“Well, I better get to work.” He bent over to get something from his toolbox.

“Yes, indeed you better! I was making a chocolate cake when the power went out! It’s my grandmother’s birthday tomorrow, very important!” I pleaded.

He looked at me, looked at the haphazard pile of ingredients on the kitchen table and then nodded with a grin.

“You will have your cake. Don’t worry, I have all the tools necessary to take care of things here” He assured me.

Less than half an hour passed and he had repaired the power.

“Oh thank you, thank you!” I was relieved. Then his phone rang.

“Yeah. [pause] Seriously? Ok, well, cancel the others then. All right bye.” He put his phone back in his pocket.

“Sorry Ma’am but the road has been snowed in behind me. I am afraid I will be stuck here all night…”

“So uh, how much do I owe you?” I asked.

“Tell you what, you seem not to know your way around the kitchen and I love to make cakes. I’ll finish it up, you let me lick the spoon and we’ll call it even.” His smile was deviously adorable.

I watched as he cracked and whipped the eggs with methodical perfection and then added the cocoa powder. This man definitely had skills. I wondered why first names had not been exchanged.

“Time to pour it into the mold.” He said, proudly.

“No, let me!” I wanted to contribute more to this cake than making a mess. He playfully kept the bowl out of my reach. I prepared to pounce on his back.

Suddenly, the power went out again. I could see nothing but was already in the air. As I jumped on him, he turned around. The two of us ended up on the floor and the bowl went flying, its contents then dripping all over me. Then the power came back on.

“What a mess!” I said. “I’ll have to wash up!”

“No need for that,” he reassured me as he took my finger in his mouth and licked off the chocolate.

The next day, I blushed when my grandmother asked me what had happened to her cake. I simply replied, “Sorry grandma, it was just too good!”

*      *      *

This did not actually happen. I am writing this post for my friend Ricardo, who when I read him my last one about the unemployment agency suddenly looked disappointed after a couple paragraphs. When I asked him why, he said:

“Well, you describe your clothing and this room where you might be alone with an attractive man, it really sounded to me like the start of an erotic story.”

His comment made me think about ways to make this blog post more enticing for male readers like him. I aim to please!

-Albany Eden

Will Write For Food

albany_edenLast week I went to my appointment to register at the local unemployment office (the Cosmos sure loves its writers…). Having spent two years with an unemployed 39 then 40 year-old who became progressively whiny the longer he stayed at home, I did what any normal girl would in this situation: all in my power to avoid attracting a man at this place. I wore my baggiest sweater and old boyfriend jeans and my juvenile-looking glasses I have had since the fifth grade. I topped off my look with Ugg boots, which, men have told me, are not sexy.

As I played Free Cell on my phone in the waiting area, I just wanted this meeting to be over.

Then I saw him. He was lean but muscular, in cool casual jeans with perfectly rugged facial hair. I let down my ponytail and took off my glasses. He was just close enough for me to get a slight whiff of his yummy cologne.

“Eden, Albany Eden?” I heard a voice say.

“Yes, that’s me!” I said as I popped out of my seat to face the Adonis of the unemployment agency. Then my Greek god looked at me, confused.

“Albany Eden” I heard again, but sexy beard’s mouth was not moving. Suddenly the enchanting cologne dissipated as Adonis made his way to the middle-aged man sitting beside me.

“Raymond Dawson, please come with me,” he said, matter-of-factly as he walked away. Then a cloud of foul body odor seemed to fill the whole room.

The man who had called my name was standing behind my Adonis. He was cross-eyed in one eye, heavily overweight and proudly displayed his open fly. When he shook my hand, he squeezed my ring so tight that it hurt. I held my breath as he led me to his office.

He took my documents and looked them over, not speaking for almost ten minutes.

“You are missing page 3” he said. I took the file, located the page, and gave it back to him. He continued eyeing the document.

“Well, your file is incomplete. I cannot accept it.”

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked.

“In this box next to title, your employer checked ‘other’ but did not ‘specify.’ See, it clearly says ‘other’ then ‘specify.’”

“I have that information, she is the payroll manager. I can just fill it in for you, or we can give her a call.”

“No, you must get her to fill it out herself, sign and stamp where she adds the title and then bring it back here to me.”

“Really, sir, could you please make an exception? I have already been here three times.”

“Well, you can drop off the file in the mailbox downstairs, then we will have to schedule another meeting. You have a web cam right? Because, we can meet online too.”

He was so clumsy with the printer and the computer; I could not bear the thought of him and his open fly—or what he might show my by mistake—on a web cam.

“Well, I have Skype but no web cam. Unemployed you see, don’t have budget for the luxuries” I did not want to take any chances.

As he input my information into the computer, he had to call in his boss to help him. It seemed to take forever. After 50 minutes of stinky air and saying nothing as this guy fumbled through the registration process, I was free to go—until next week.

I don’t know if it was deliberate on behalf of the unemployment agency, but avoiding another meeting with this guy is very powerful motivation for me to find a job quickly!

I realize this was not a dating catastrophe, but, lately, I have been meeting more interesting men who do not do wildly inappropriate things, so I had to look elsewhere for inspiration!

– Albany Eden