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"Desperately Seeking Stephanie" flashed in front ofmy eyes in lurid purple and yellow - an obnoxious combination.An instant later, a photograph filled the screen of a girl in a yellowsundress with black polka dots! A photograph of me.According to the caption, it was Jim standing next to me in thephotograph, with his arm casually around my waist, although when Ilooked at the photograph more carefully, I reckoned that his image hadbeen carefully superimposed onto the photograph.This, apparently, was Jim's site. He was in love with me, but we'd hada stupid argument about whether we should get married in Hawaii or LasVegas. I had walked off in a temper, and had never been seen again. Jimwas desperate to find me. If anyone could tell him where I was, hewould pay for them to go to the wedding, wherever in the world it was.It wasn't a very professional site, but the whole story had a certaincharm about it. One could imagine people all over the country comingacross the site and wanting to. So here I was, Christmas shopping for the most important woman in my life, and there were still rules I had to follow: Nothing too personal. Nothing even vaguely sexual. Safe things, like sweaters and books and videos. Possibly a CD or two. But nothing personal, private... nothing that she could cherish and treasure for the rest of her life as having come from my hands and heart.Oh, sure, I'd broken the rule once or twice. Like the time I sent her a vibrator as a joke. She told me that there was a dearth of male action twixt her sheets, and I helped her out with this glow-in-the-dark, plug-into-the- wall latex vibrator that was huge. She loved it, and we nicknamed it "Glow Worm."I'd given her a priceless Japaneese porcelin mask to hang on her bedroom wall. It'd cost me almost six hundred dollars. It was a birthday present. You know what she gave me that year?A keychain.In the shape of a guitar.I don't even play guitar!So, anyway, being the miserable, self-abusing asshole that I am, I.
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