Download a boyfriend ((exclusive gift: SMS bookmark))

Author: Mei Cuo
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-06-01
Features: Occasionally, while browsing the web, I stumbled upon a matchmaking and social networking site. At the time, I thought, "If my boyfriend could download himself like software, how wonderful would that be?" Coincidentally, I had just finished reading a rather poignant and melancholic cyber love story written by a graduate student named Tsai from Taiwan, which made me feel quite eager. So, I started aimlessly scrolling through the site, and that's how A came into my life. His self-introduction was over a hundred words long, though there were no particularly moving phrases, but it made me feel that he was sincere about love, and so was I. I sensed that perhaps we might have a connection, so I sent him a message—and from then on, my cyber love took off on an irreversible path.
A replied the next day, expressing his happiness, and attached various scanned copies of his identification documents. The online world is, after all, a virtual one; everyone is just an ID, or a number. Yet, A's valid identification documents did boost my confidence in him. We frequently exchanged messages online, sometimes chatting via ICQ, and other times meeting in chat rooms. Gradually, we really started to develop feelings for each other, even unconsciously missing each other. Maybe happiness was really on its way, I thought. Finally, one day, I included my phone number in a message and hoped he would call me.
The first time I heard A's voice, I was overjoyed. His voice was deep and resonant, which only made my heart flutter even more. I forget who suggested meeting first—it might have been me. In the afternoon before our date, I was both excited and nervous. I couldn’t focus on anything, just imagining A’s appearance in my mind, wondering if he had some of that blue melancholic vibe described by the "bad boy" Tsai, and silently replaying some of the things we’d said, unable to help but smile softly to myself.
Sometimes love is like math—it must follow a formula. This unconventional meeting might have been a sign of eventual failure. The day we met was Christmas Eve: the city was crowded, and it was also mealtime, so the restaurant was packed. The scene of our meeting wasn’t nearly as dramatic as I had imagined. Everyone was too busy finding seats, even forgetting to exchange glances or "feel a spark." I, on the other hand, was overwhelmed by the noisy atmosphere and lost my own little romance. Forget noticing if he had a blue aura when he was melancholic, I even forgot what he was wearing or what he looked like. After finally finding a seat, the moment I had a chance to glance at him, the waiter carelessly handed me the menu. A seemed to be a very gentlemanly person—opening the door for me when I entered, guiding me to a seat, and even making sure the waiter handed me the menu first with meticulous attention. I had no choice but to straighten my posture, cross my legs, and pull a reserved, noble face from my memory, wearing a smile I rarely used, which felt awkward and stiff. It’s ridiculous—online chatting allows you to be so unrestrained, to speak freely and vaguely, yet when you finally get a chance to meet face-to-face instead of just ID-to-ID, both of us became so reserved.
Apart from giving each other a brief, vague once-over, there wasn’t much else to talk about. A was shorter and fatter than I had imagined, and his conversation was less eloquent than in his emails. He rarely spoke, always sticking to questions like "How many people are in your family?" "What do you do for work?" "Where do you live?" A noticed I rarely spoke, so he kept talking about his own impressive family background. I didn’t really like that kind of slightly boastful boy. I almost finished eating my braised intestines alone when I suddenly felt a bit bored. I asked A for his opinion, then asked the waiter to settle the bill. Although I have some feminist tendencies, I became rather vulgar when it came to paying. But since my action of paying was so quick and precise that I didn’t even need change, the waiter had already left. When A pulled out a wallet as thick as a dictionary, the waiter had already gone. Though A offered to give me the money, I felt a bit guilty about being so swift, but how could I accept his hundred-yuan bill for a meal that cost only tens of yuan? So, I just bit the bullet and said, "Let me treat you."
A seemed to respect my feminist spirit and didn’t argue further. Outside the restaurant, it looked like it was already late. Though I was used to walking alone at night, A insisted on taking me to the station. Suddenly, I felt an inexplicable emotion and realized how long I’d been lonely. Shouldn’t I give someone—and myself—a chance? With both of us silently agreeing, we began to continue our relationship. However, this relationship, which lasted only two weeks after meeting, was limited to emails and phone calls. I never saw A again. His tone on the phone remained attentive, but his attitude was ambiguous. I had never really had much confidence in this cyber love, and I grew puzzled and tired of his distant yet close behavior. So, I hesitantly wrote an email asking if he had a clearer stance on our relationship. But A, who seemed quite skilled at guerrilla tactics, replied with even greater calmness, saying he was indeed very busy, and his tone was even more earnest.
After reading such a lukewarm reply, I felt numb. I didn’t know what I was chasing anymore. I didn’t log off immediately but continued aimlessly browsing online. Eventually, I stumbled back to the matchmaking site and noticed A’s profile was still there. Suddenly, my mischievous side took over, and I registered an email account in a different location, sending A a test message asking if he had found "the one." Perhaps it was my lack of confidence in him, or maybe I overestimated myself. The next day, A replied: "This letter is the best gift I received for the New Year." He also attached copies of various identification documents with anti-counterfeiting marks, along with a bilingual, instruction-book-like text. "Someone actually tricked me," I was shocked but couldn’t help but chuckle, not sure if I was proud of my clever prank.