Episode 6: “The Pursuit of Katie, Part I”

Sarisob sat in his living room on a chilly February night, listening to NPR and considering one of the rarest of Sarisobian pleasures: a post-prandial cigarette. Working in Oncology Social Work for so many years, Sarisob knew better than to use tobacco for anything other than a fine laxative. He winced to hear a panel of three women on "All Things Considered" discussing the upcoming Grammy Awards. Their voices kept leaping over each other like a pack of hares bounding across a field, creating a high, shrill effect. It disturbed Sarisob to hear what he called pussy-talk. Too many women made their way through life by talking through their pussies instead of their mouths. Then again, Sarisob realized it annoyed him even more to hear cock-talk, which was just as perniciously prevalent. People should speak from their hearts and minds, thought Sarisob, not from their genitals. America was suffering a surfeit of genital-talk under Genital W. Bush in the White House, and was in dire need of good de-genitalization. He thought of Illinois Senator Barack Obama, Democratic Presidential candidate, whose well-calibrated orations epitomized a brand of heart/mind integration that made Sarisob feel proud to be an American. Obama's genital-talk is reserved solely for his lovely wife and not sublimated into bellicose posturing, Sarisob thought, and this is one reason he is getting my vote.

The high-pitched symposium continued. One of the women was saying that Amy Winehouse could surpass Etta James if she managed to live long enough, and the others whinnied in disbelief. Sarisob divined that the women were in their late-20s/early-30s due to the chirpy nature of their vaginal vocalese. He changed the channel to A.M. radio 850 WEEI’s "Planet Mikey" show. Mikey Adams’s guest-host that night was Herald sportswriter Steve Bulpett; their relaxed comic rapport, discussing the Clemens/MacNamee imbroglio, was a pleasure to listen to. Occasionally Mikey stooped to cock-talk, especially when bantering with Christina the Email Female, but the veteran radio personality knew how to transcend it with his wit and intelligence, unlike the young ladies on NPR.

NPR should stand for National Pussy Radio, Sarisob chuckled to himself, arising from his Bauhaus chair. He went to the kitchen, fixed a Balvenie on the rocks, cracked open the window, lit a cone of incense, and pulled a pack of organic American Spirits from the drawer under his microwave. Tonight was calling for a smoke, as he had eaten a plate of favas and linguica at his favorite Portuguese spot, O Cantinho, after work. He was a regular there because they made the linguica his special way: sauteed with crushed red pepper and whole garlic cloves. While it was great going down, it was rough getting out: the beans and meat would compact in his colon, and the spices would smoulder there like breathing embers. Savoring the single-malt, he took several slow, deep drags on the cigarette and carefully stubbed it out. Then, like clockwork, the blockage shifted and he made swiftly for the toilet. This one's gonna burn more than usual, he thought, which made him extra glad to have picked up some Aloe Vera gel on the way home from the restaurant. They'll never say I wasn't prepared, Sarisob thought with a grimace as the brown lava scorched his rectum.

Before going to bed he decided to log in and check out his Yahoo! Personals account. Having been single for the past year and a half, he decided to give online dating another try. Still smarting from the sudden, unexplained breakup with Stephanie S. (see episode 2), he was slower than usual to rebound, and only signed up with Yahoo to temporarily placate his longtime friend Larry Macomber. They made a deal: so long as Matt was looking for women online, Larry wouldn't hector him to go out "hunting" with him. Larry, who went to Bishop Stang High School with Sarisob and now lives in a modest Braintree one-bedroom apartment, having happily given his ex-wife Stacey the house as payment for their permanent estrangement four years ago, was tireless in his efforts to snare wife number 2, seemingly to stave off the regret of not having done enough. He often urged Sarisob to accompany him to speed-dating nights in the South End, to the Museum of Fine Arts's "First Fridays" singles night, to the bar in the North End where he had once found success years ago and retells the story whenever they go there, as if a one-night-stand with a per diem court reporter was the crowning achievement of his adult life. Maybe it was, and maybe that's not so bad, he thought. In fact, Sarisob was jealous of his friend's lone conquest at a bar, one more than Sarisob had ever converted, and was jealous of his friend's fearlessness where women are concerned. "Mattie, who cares what they think of me?" he once told his friend. "They say no, and I move on—their loss. They say yes, and we have a great time! But you can't get to the yesses without hearing some noes! For Chrissakes, stop reading all that George Eliot and go out there and grab some ass!"

Sarisob's last attempt at online dating back in '04 was a disappointment, largely because he, lacking a digital camera at the time, did not have a good photo of himself. He used a picture that Larry took, one of Sarisob picking apples at Carlson Orchards, and hoped that women would look past the pom-pom on the goofy hat he borrowed in a pinch from the Oncology Clinic's lost-and-found drawer. Apparently they didn't, because he only found one good prospect in several weeks of fishing. He had a few dates with Rebecca J., a music therapist from Arlington who also played piano in a small chamber ensemble. He thought they were getting somewhere, especially after they made out for a while at the close of the third date, but Rebecca never replied to his follow-up email the next morning. Unbeknownst to Sarisob, Rebecca was grossed out by how garlicky his face smelled close up, a smell which she couldn't attribute to their sushi dinner. (His fatal error consisted of eating his leftover stir-fry for lunch that day, and not showering before their date.) This time around, he bought a camera and used a nice pic taken by his boss Sheila at a work function, in which he was smiling and holding up a glass of wine, looking polished and professional.

He was just planning to quickly check his Inbox and go to bed early, but then a newly-posted profile caught his eye. The profile was named "KMJ". KMJ lives in Quincy, was 33 years old, 5'9", and works as a nurse. A vegetarian and yoga enthusiast, KMJ likes rock climbing and has a cat named Imogen. The profile's main picture showed her at the stove, standing in a tight black t-shirt, making a stir-fry in a steaming wok. The photo's caption read "Can you wok the wok?" Her posture was perfect, and her plaited blonde hair shone with health. Her t-shirt highlighted the gentle curve of her back. KMJ's second pic was one of her holding up Imogen, a huggable tabby. This woman is special...I love her as much as I love stir-fries, Sarisob thought—especially shrimp and watercress with chili-garlic sauce! But in her case he would make do with tofu. He was willing to accept the compromise, and planned to google the bland bean-curd in a bid to impress her with his ability to make it taste good.

Her profile also said she was enamored with pop group Belle and Sebastian. "I bow to the Pride of Scotland, the ULTRA-FABULOUS Belle and Sebastian!!!" she wrote. Sarisob hadn't heard of them but vowed to research them online in order to appear informed. Preferring classical to pop music, Sarisob didn't know most of today's pop groups. However, he used to be big into the Scottish band Big Country, whose majestic sound moved him as much as his beloved Vienna Philharmonic. He fondly recalled the night that Big Country performed their top-10 hit, “In A Big Country,” on Saturday Night Live back in ‘82, because that was the very night that Sarisob ejaculated for the first time. A truly historic night. The band rocked with their trademark swing, and 13-year-old Sarisob jumped in fright, pleasuring himself on the blue divan next to the little black-and-white TV his mom let him keep in his room, to discover the milky spoo tentatively issue forth. Exulting in the wetness, Sarisob knew the best was yet to come. “Come up screaming,” indeed!

Sarisob stayed up for a while listening to Belle and Sebastian song samples, and wrote to KMJ. She replied soon thereafter, thus beginning the most significant correspondence in Sarisob's history of online dating. Our hero has agreed to share their emails; we will bring the reader along for the ride as their relationship develops....
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From: Sarisob
Sent: Thursday, February 7, 2008, 11:09 PM
To: KMJ
Subject: like your profile (and posture)

Hello KMJ! I was impressed with your profile for many reasons, and wanted to say hi. To be honest, what struck me first—apart from your loveliness of course—was your perfect posture. An elegant woman making a stir-fry will always catch my fancy. I make a stir-fry with brown rice almost every night. (If I ever get a tattoo, it might be the logo from a bottle of Sriracha!) I broke down last year and bought a stylin' Calphalon wok from Amazon, it's one of my all-time best purchases.

I, too, work as a caregiver (Oncology Social Work at MGH) and can relate to the challenges of nursing. Suffice to say it takes a unique blend of soft heart and thick skin (thick skull?) to put oneself out there with patients everyday. I think what helps me is that I'm very up front about being a buffoon. It helps relax my patients.

Full disclosure: I'm a few years older than you, 37. I am not a vegetarian, but I am willing to go further in that direction. Sometimes I eat seafood and chicken, and hope that's not a deal-breaker for you. Otherwise I'm very health conscious and avoid all refined sugar/flour products and eat organic whenever possible. And I'm a whiz with tofu! Did you know that if you freeze a cake for 10 minutes you can squeeze the water out of it better?

Your cat has a sweet name and is quite a cutie! I don't have a pet at this point, but have owned both cats and dogs in the past. I probably prefer cats if pressed. (If I was pressed, that is—not the cat! Hee-hee.) Dogs take daily effort, like raising a child. In my opinion it takes two to raise a dog.

You have good taste in music. I listen to all kinds, pop, classical, and jazz, but mostly classical at work. My friend Larry did refer me to the "ULTRA-FABULOUS" B&S some time ago. Did you see their Avalon show last year? I heard it was incredible! Their use of texture and strings sometimes reminds me of the Beach Boys, who I also like. Larry favors the DCW album, but I think TLP is better. What do you think?

BTW, the picture in my profile is from a work event. Please don't judge me by the tie—I'm not really a tie-wearing guy outside work. But I'm good at "wokking the wok" when necessary!

Cheers, Matt Sarisob

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From: KMJ
Sent: Saturday, February 9, 2008, 11:20 A.M.
To: Sarisob
Subject: thanks for your sweet note...

Dear Matt,

Thanks for the sweet note and compliment about my posture. I've done yoga twice a week for years, it must be doing something right. Honestly, if not for Yoga, I'd probably be in therapy, or under some barstool. I've been at South Cove Hell Center—I mean, Health Center—too long, and am needing a change. (I guess that's why I posted an ad, why I'm writing to you, why you wrote to me. We all need a change, don't we?)

Sorry to vent about work in my first note to you, I know it's bad form... Yesterday was a particularly bad day. The 6:00 nurse left early, and I was stuck there dictating notes til 8:30. Plus this rainy spell lately is bringing me down. I shouldn't complain though...life is generally way better than I deserve! I have yoga class in a half-hour and that should set me right.

Wow, you must have some stress to bear in your line of work as well. Does it get to you at all, working with so many sick patients? I'm not sure I could ever push chemo, but I'm told Onc. nurses make some big bucks.

My ultra-cuddly cat is named for the British singer Imogen Heap. Ever heard of her? If you like classical music you'd probably love her piano playing and amazing voice. Her recent album "Speak For Yourself" is in heavy rotation on my mp3 player. (Can you tell I love music? :-) ) Yes, you missed a great B&S show at Avalon last year...they were soooo awesone, and Stuart M. is such a dreamboat! (sigh, love that man...) I am a definitely in your friend Larry's camp: Dear Catastrophe Waitress all the way!

I'm the same with classical music as you are with vegetarianism. I am sympathetic to it, and could stand to learn more. Maybe you could tell me about Bach and I could expose you to the wonders of TVP? And BTW, I didn't know that about freezing the tofu. Will try it, thanks!

Well, gotta get ready for Yoga. Oh, and since you mentioned not having a tattoo...it happens that I do have a tattoo, but it is of a personal nature. Maybe one day I'll tell you about it. ;-)

Regards, Katie