Love Virtually by Daniel Glattauer Page B

you’re looking for something. Let’s call it adventure. Those who go looking for adventure never find it. Am I right?
    An hour and a half later
    Re: A good day!
    You’re right, I am looking for something. I desperately need a priest to explain to me the definition of cheating on your husband. Or at least what a priest might imagine it to be, a priest who has never cheated, not only because he doesn’t have a woman to cheat with, but also because he doesn’t have a wife to cheat on, except for the Virgin Mary herself. This isn’t The Thorn Birds , Leo! I’m not looking for “adventure” with you. I just want to see who you are. Just once I want to look my email buddy in the eye. If that’s what you call “cheating,” then I admit that I might just be a cheat.
    Twenty minutes later
    Re: A good day!
    But just to be sure, you wouldn’t tell your husband anything.
    Fifteen minutes later
    Re: A good day!
    Leo, I don’t like it when you come off all priggish! You’re welcome to go on like that when it concerns your own affairs, but not when it comes to mine. Being happily married doesn’t mean that you have to deliver a daily report of all the people you meet. If I did that, I’d bore Bernhard to tears.
    Two minutes later
    Re: A good day!
    So you’d say nothing to your Bernhard about our meeting because you’re afraid it would bore him to tears?
    Three minutes later
    Re: A good day!
    Oh, the way you write “your Bernhard,” Leo! I can’t help it that my husband has a name. But that doesn’t mean that he belongs to me, or that he’s glued to my side 24/7 with me endlessly cooing “My Bernhard!” and my hands all over him.
    I don’t think you have the faintest idea about marriage, Leo.
    Five minutes later
    Re: A good day!
    I’ve not said a word about marriage, Emmi. And you still haven’t answered my last question. But how did you put it recently? An evasive answer is an answer nonetheless.
    Ten minutes later
    Re: A good day!
    Dear Leo, Let’s draw a line under this. You’re the one who owes ME an answer to my crucial question, which I’m happy to repeat for you: Do you want to meet me? If the answer’s yes, then let’s do it! If the answer’s no, then please tell me what all this is about, how should it carry on? Or rather, should it carry on at all?
    Twenty minutes later
    Re: A good day!
    Why can’t we just carry on writing to each other?
    Two minutes later
    Re: A good day!
    I don’t get it: he just doesn’t want to get to know me! You’re such a fuddy-duddy, Leo. Maybe I’m the blonde with the large breasts!!!
    Thirty seconds later
    Re: A good day!
    So?
    Twenty seconds later
    Re: A good day!
    You could ogle them.
    Thirty-five seconds later
    Re: A good day!
    And you’d like that, would you?
    Twenty-five seconds later
    Re: A good day!
    Not me, you! All men like it, especially the ones who don’t admit it.
    Fifty seconds later
    Re: A good day!
    I much prefer these kinds of conversations.
    Thirty seconds later
    Re: A good day!
    Aha! So you’re a repressed sex-chat addict after all.
    Three minutes later
    Re: A good day!
    That was a good one to end on, Emmi. Sorry, I’ve got to go out now. I hope you have a nice evening.
    Four minutes later
    Re: A good day!
    Twenty-eight emails between us today, Leo. And where have they got us? Nowhere. What’s your mantra?—detachment. What’s your parting shot?—you hope that I “have a nice evening.” That’s in “Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year from Emmi Rothner” territory. To sum up, after a hundred emails and a professionally executed meeting-without-actually-meeting, we’re not a millimeter closer. The only thing sustaining our “inner non-acquaintance” is the staggering effort we devote. Leo. Leo. Leo. What a shame, what a terrible shame.
    One minute later
    Re: A good