Meet My First Companion, Lorem Ipsum By Lee J. Bentch
Photo by Markus Winkler
I signed up with an online dating app for seniors. It’s a fun learning experience. I figured out how to swipe left, swipe right, clap, smile, connect up, have an excellent time, break up, move on, all the exciting things associated with getting out there again.
It’s been a few years since my wife passed. I figured it’s time to stretch my arms and get social again.
After a few days of being online, I connected with a lady named Lorum Ipsum. She’s a friendly companion but doesn’t say much.
It turns out she doesn’t speak but communicates in a written language nobody understands. I think she’s famous because she has a website and most of my writing friends know about her: https://loremipsum.io/
She comes from a family of placeholders. Her brother Dolor Sit is famous for nothing. Her mother goes by one name Ament. Her father is a very conservative man whose name is Consectetur Adipiscing. They call their cat Elit.
Their family tree looks like this: Lorem Ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. That is what you get when you’re part of a family of meaningless words. Families like this drive 23andMe crazy.
They have no grammatical sense. The internet thinks their roots go back to fifteenth-century Latin as part of some text that Cicero created.
I tried having their names translated through multiple translators, and there was no agreement other than nothing. “These words are nothing but formatted baby babble,” my friend who teaches English said.
An editor friend and Journalism Professor recognized the word sequence. He gruffly said it was “a total waste of space, used by printers visualizing newspaper column spacing.”
I couldn’t disagree.
One Friday, Lorum invited me to dinner at her house. She wanted me to meet her family. I picked up a bottle of Cialis (just in case I got lucky ) and texted ahead, telling her I was on my way. I got no response, but that’s understandable because I don’t think she’s human. I’m not sure she exists.
I forged ahead. When I got to the house, I let myself in and found the dining room. There were 8 place settings, with 4 bottles of wine on the table and a beautiful flower bouquet in the middle. The smell of a roasted chicken wafting from the kitchen.
The family was all there; I couldn’t see them. I was hoping they would be humans. But I had to remind myself I was working with a family of nonsensical early Latin words that had no meaning, bodies, or personalities. I was stuck somewhere between the Twilight Zone and The Addams Family. What was I expecting? I wonder how they registered to vote?
Upon arrival, I immediately felt welcomed and sat down at the table. This whole situation felt pretty weird. Here I was with a family of nobody placeholders with funny names, having nothing for dinner since nobody was physically there. I had a good time anyway as the wine was good and I drank two bottles. I didn’t have to say much. I left an hour later with the intent never to talk to Lorem again.
We broke up two nights later. I sent her an email that looked like this: ‘Lorem Ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat.’
I never heard from her or her crazy family again.
And then, with a startle, I woke up in a cold sweat. Taking a minute to gather my thoughts, I realized I had a bizarre dream. I grabbed a cup of coffee and tried to remember the details so I could tell my therapist. I’m convinced if anybody believed me, it would be her.
After a few sips of coffee, I summarized the experience: I met a woman online with a funny name. She didn’t exist, but everyone knew about her. Her most incredible life skill was being a word placeholder. Her parents were all placeholders, and she didn’t want to break the tradition. Their whole life was nothingness but crazy words that look like Latin. Old-time newspaper Editors seem to be the only ones to enjoy their company.
Oh my, this isn’t very clear. I need to stop eating chocolate chip cookies and watching Seinfeld reruns before I go to bed. And maybe I should give up online dating.