ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: TUESDAY, February 16, 1993                   TAG: 9302160110
SECTION: CURRENT                    PAGE: NRV-2   EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY 
SOURCE: Robert Freis
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium


WHERE IS WOMAN OF MY DREAMS?

I don't mean to bore you with personal details. But Valentine's Day has come and gone without other significance in my life.

My options are: Get a pet, subscribe to cable TV, work longer hours, join the priesthood or take lots of cold showers.

I'll do none of those, however. My plan is to employ the Power of the Press, be a '90s kinda guy, and do what disconnected single people do these days: A personal ad.

I've prepared by studying the personals you'll find under the "Possibilities" column this paper publishes - the want ads. Your standard personal ad is divided into several subcategories, which I will explain in detail.

First, the trickiest part: Selling oneself. How to appear attractive, provocative, charming and virile without lying. You assume that the cheeky guys who describe themselves as "handsome" are (1) egomaniacs; (2) ugly but rich; or (3) Phantoms of the Opera. "Sensual" is more likely "slimy." And "crazy" signals a criminal record.

Marital status also is suspect. Does "single" mean unmarried, separated, estranged, divorced loser or merely alone when he or she composed the ad? Would you buy a used car from someone who's "married" and running personal ads - much less do the lambada with them?

Being absolutely truthful just isn't good strategy. That's why you won't read me saying anything like, Likes to belch loudly and sweat. If you get along well enough, those revelations can wait until the second or third date.

I've selected this for my opening (with subliminals): White Boy, 37, thawed out after being frozen in block of ice for 15 years (youthful maturity); Free-spirited (broke), Napoleonic (short) Teddy bear-type (bearded and pudgy), intellectual truck driver and newsman.

Next, the ideal woman. Once again, a delicate issue! How can the personal be specific, vague, inclusive and exclusive simultaneously? I've decided to attack the problem directly. I'm seeking the following partner:

Must have hair (sorry, but I'm scalpophobic).

Age somewhere between learner's permit and Social Security eligibility.

Amount of hair spray should not be threat to ozone layer.

Cannot be seen floating near football stadium with GOODYEAR painted on body.

Does not possess Home Shopping Network Gold Card.

Does not have facial rice marks from previous wedding ceremonies.

It's also challenging to specify why you want to meet this person, particularly in a family newspaper, and what you desire. Naturally there are certain assumptions and coy ways to state them for publication.

Say "fun & games" and it sounds like an invitation to Elvis' Jungle Room at Graceland. Say "long walks and quiet evenings" and it means "boring."

Anytime you read the word "intimate," assume they want to share your toothbrush.

If they like "travel" it's probably to the No-Tell Motel in Iaeger, W.Va. If they enjoy "dining out" forget about asking them to do dishes, much less clean the bathroom.

The cautious, discreet personal ad says "friendship and possibly more." I'm going to reverse that and say "Desires more but possibly less."

Of course, in this perilous time of romantic history, love can kill. So it's important to be very clear about personal health. Therefore, let me emphatically state than when it comes to being healthly, I'm . . . no, I mean I'm . . . noooo, what I'm trying to say is . . . ah, forget it.

So there you have it. I'm irresistible if not unavoidable. Reply in confidence to BOX-RF, Roanoke Times & World-News, P.O. Box 540, Christiansburg, Va. 24073.

Save me from my next step, which is calling one of those "900" numbers and begging some Idaho housewife in curlers who goes by "Desiree" to baby talk for me at three bucks a minute.

Robert Freis is a general assignment reporter for the New River Valley bureau, mainly because he has nothing else to do.



by Archana Subramaniam by CNB