Water Lilly Alley

The Pond

Mr. WLA

In regards to your reply on ‘Love Lost in Lancaster, well, to be honest, your advice is at best one sided and at not so best, it sucks. If it were up to me I would like nothing more than to circle up thumb and forefinger and give you a ‘Yay, Okay’ but in short you leave me quite disappointed on your views of love.

(see Lost in Lancaster in Ask Mr.WLA on the sidebar)

I would like to shed a bit of light on the adage of ‘Many fish in the sea’ and ‘The dating pond” and then onto ‘Dynamite Fishing.

First of all I would like to say, I happen to be ‘one’ of those ‘fish’ in the sea and that pond baby is getting mighty mofo’n sparse of fish and all because of people like you insisting that it is ok to strip mine the concept of ‘leaving well enough alone’ with dynamite fishing.

As a black man of 42 I have been in and out of the pond of harmony more times than I would like to admit and yet the problem is not of being in love, the difficulty lay in the ‘how’ we move in and out of life’s aquatic green room of love.

Crawling out on our own, like an amphibian is just ok with me.

But Dynamite Fishing? What were you thinking?

Imagine a calm blue green afternoon and you are schooling around the bottom of the pond with your buds having a good old time of nothing. When out of nowhere the surface of your world is disrupted with a small splash and then ‘WHAMMO’ you and about half your buds are floating tits up on the surface of easy pickens.

Now, I agree that most of use can deal with the big bang of ‘Baby come here’ and most of us can live with the shock of direct sunlight. However, have you, as a man ever found yourself floating tits up on the surface of love, been scooped up, examined and then tossed back into the pond in lieu of a better floating fish? Well, that is my gripe. It’s quite intimidating to say the least. And being a man, have you no shame in regards to this atrocity against the brotherhood.

I just ask that in the future the next time you are trying to score with the babes that you do not use us as shark chum; I don’t care how freaking hot Lucrecia is. We are your brothers.
Signed
Thrown Back.

Dear TB
Bro, I’m feeling ya, your correspondence leaves me with a want to reach deep into the pockets of my pants and clench until I force some sort of dignity back into my soul. But in the meantime, you don’t mind setting me up with your ex do you? Man, how did you let that one get away?

Love Lost In Lancaster

Dear Mr. WLA.

Hi. My name is Lucrecia Williams, you may not remember me, but back in the day when you ran your column on personal and political advice I became and still remain one of your biggest fans.  I know that the column is no longer in place, however, I was wondering if you could help me out here with a dilemma that has been plaguing me for the last few years. But, I’m getting ahead of myself so let’s start from the beginning. I’m a 34-year old divorcee, mother of two girls and one boy, ages 7, 10, and 13. I work for Microsoft as a spyware technician so I’m really not in dire straits financially.

My situation is that now that my children are much older I really have been thinking of getting back into the dating scene. There is the old adage that there are many fish in the sea and yet I have no idea where to start, Microsoft is not exactly boiling over with real men. In fact the pot isn’t even simmering. My question to you is: How do I go about getting back into the dating pool. 

Fondly Lucrecia.

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Ms. Lucrecia,

First of all let me say that your ‘situation’ is really not that uncommon in the wake of one’s divorce. However, with my uncanny ability to search anxiously for the meaning between your words, I think I can surely aid you back into the world of martial bliss without setting up a personal one on one consultation.

First of all let’s go over the terminology used in your letter. You said “There is the old adage that there are many fish in the sea…” along with “…back into the dating pool.”

Those two phrases my dear, contain the key to unlocking your impasse.

Now, at first I may come off sounding cheaper than a prison tattoo but bear with me and my reasoning will become Tom Cruise Clear.

You see, looking for love is like dynamite fishing. You just walk up to the pool of love, toss in a few sticks of explosives, stand back, wait a few minutes for the detonation, and blammo, life is good once again, sure there will be a mess with the algae and pond scum, but whatever floats to the top of the pool is pretty much yours for the picking.

Now, you get out there Ms. Dynamite and take on the world.

Oh yeah, and a little cleavage doesn’t hurt.

Sincerely Mr. WLA.