It's always worked before. If I don't see you, you won't see me. And I really don't want you to see what's popped up in my life. But you know me, I'm going to tell you anyway.

I was asking for it. It was only a matter of time. Still, I’m a bit shocked and embarrassed that my behavior yielded this kind of thing. Please don’t tell my mother.

The only way for me to purge myself of my shame is to expose myself my situation and let you, my loyal readers, convince me that I am, indeed, an innocent victim in all of this.

I take every precaution I can, but still harmful influences insinuate themselves in my life. Such was it ever.

I realize I’ve been evasive, using vague references like “it” and “this,” but I’m only three lines into this post, so show a little patience, people. I have to work up my nerve.

It all started innocently, as everything does with me. I live in a rather remote area of the country (not every part of America is paved and is a shopping mecca), so I’ve learned to do a lot of shopping online. I prefer online shopping because I can avoid reckless people operating bulky shopping carts; I can also avoid have to schlep my purchases from the store to my home. If I want a work-out, I’ll go to the Wellness Center.

Do you have a license to operate that thing?

My area is devoid of specialty stores that carry items I require to maintain my health and avoid brain atrophy. These are the things I typically order online:

  1. herbal tea
  2. books (mostly about writing memoirs or memoirs)
  3. fabric and other quilting paraphernalia

Would you agree that these products are not the kinds of things that, say, a sex-starved woman would be interested in? Oh, come on. Would it hurt you to agree with me? Thank you.

You got me. This is the reason I drink all that herbal tea. And the newest trend in quilting is quilted lingerie with very low-loft batting for the full-figure gal.

Riddle me this, why is Ms. Andrea Holland sending me an email with the subject line: “We’ll help you turn your stale sexual life around.” Well, come to think of it, maybe Ms. Holland is looking at the kinds of things she supposes I’m not doing with my life–picturing me like a Victorian prude–and wants to add a little zippity-doo-da to my life. Still, Ms. Holland, I resent your assumption about what I do when I’m not reading, sipping tea and quilting. All that reading while lying down, sipping steamy tea and the rhythmic up and down motion of the quilting needle can get a woman my age…well…can give her ideas about what to do when her man comes home.  Some days, Ms. Holland, he doesn’t stand a chance. So keep your ideas about how you and your company will help me turn my “stale” sexual life around. Maybe, Ms. Holland, you’re projecting you’re abysmal sex life on the people to whom you’re marketing. Might I suggest an evening of steamy hot tea and pushing a needle up and down…up and down…up and down…You’ll feel something stirring in no time at all!

Oh yeah. Feel the rhythm. Up and down. In and out. Undulating with pleasure. That's what I'm talking about...the love of quilting.

The very next email I received was from a company called the “goood online shop.” I suppose the extra “o” in the “good” is to convince potential buyers that their products are especially wonderful. Or it maybe it was a typo. Again, based on the products I order online, I think this company is marketing to the wrong gal. Here’s what their subject line contained: “Valium, Phentermine, Hydrocodone, Xanax, Coma, Rivotril, Lunesta, Imovane, Viagra, Cialis, Darvocet…” Excuse me? Are the marketing people taking some of these substances? Do they really think my life is so dismal that I need to medicate (without a doctor’s input) with any or all of these drugs? Is there really a drug on the market called “Coma?” (Apparently so–it’s made from nail polish remover.) In what circumstances would anyone want to take that drug? No book is so bad nor is any quilting project that frustrating that I’d place an order for a month’s supply of “Coma” or any other controlled substance.

Looks like a great way to spend a date night, eh?

So there you have it. I buy a few perfectly innocent products online, and all of a sudden sketchy drug companies and people with nice-enough sounding names are making some pretty big assumptions about what I need to get through my supposedly miserable excuse for a life (sexual and otherwise).

I like buying products online that I can’t find locally because my town is so small and poor. And I suppose I could just do as I always do and just block all these junk emails every day without paying attention to them. But sometimes I just have to pay attention. Everyone who orders products online gets junk emails. Is everyone discriminating enough to ignore and block them? How many people are scammed when they try to buy “Coma” from one of these “fly by byte” spammers?

It’s a dangerous cyber-world out there, even when all you’re doing is ordering herbal tea and plenty of quilting needles.

I tell ya, shvesters, all I ordered was some nice scarves and support hose for our Sabbath. Lord have Mercy. And look at the farcockt email I keep getting. What is dis business about spicing up my bedroom? Oye! Irving thinks pepper is too spicy.