This is a Valentine's Day contest story. Please vote.
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With no one to love, a man looks for his perfect Valentine, Susan, to give his heart.
John looked for Susan. Searching high and low, and even though it had been years that he's been looking, not ever giving up hope, he had yet to find her. Always racking his brain for new places to look for her, he decided to try one place he had never tried before.
As if they were waiting for him to select one, they were all just sitting there reading their books. Each one sitting at a different table, as if they needed their own space and to be so separated and so isolated to read, he felt certain that she was here. When he looked out over the expanse of floor, there were a lot of women reading books alone. Surely, one of them had to me his one and only, his special Susan.
Judging a book by their cover, at first glance, he walked the aisles of each floor of the public library looking to see if any one of them physically appealed to him. He was looking to see, if any one of them was his special Valentine, his Susan. After first taking a casual walk around, he walked the aisles of each floor of the public library more slowly to see, if he could sense a psychic connection and feel a kismet bond with the woman of his dreams. Without looking at any of the women, never making eye contact, he stopped at the end of each aisle so as to feel, if he was picking up on their cerebral vibrations and their spiritual aura. When he felt nothing, he continued his search.
As a way to discern if he had something in common, he tried to see what they were reading, while imagining what it would be like to be with this one or with that one. It wasn't so much the sex that he imagined or needed, as it was the intimacy and the companionship that he wanted. He needed someone who was on the same page as him, so to speak. He wanted someone to share his goals, his dreams, and his desires.
Just as he was desperately seeking Susan he was looking for the one woman who was desperately seeking John. It was important for him to have that connection. Not looking for just a girlfriend, he needed to have a best friend, as well as a lover. He wanted to experience it all. He wanted her to be his everything.
In the way that a jury consultant reads a potential jurist, based on their appearance, their body language, their facial expressions, and what they say and how they say it, before making a selection, he attempted to do the same, when walking the aisles of the public library. Only, based primarily on their appearance and what they were reading, he tried to get a read on them, while imagining the type of conversation and connection they'd have. Short, tall, thin, obese, and average, blonde, brunette, or redhead, it didn't matter so much what the woman looked like, so long as there was a connection to blossom their love relationship and so long, of course, her name was Susan.
Her name had to be Susan. That was the kicker, the deal breaker, and the reason why he was having such a hard time finding his dream woman. Her name had to be Susan. No other name would do. He loved the name Susan and he wanted his own woman named Susan. He had been practicing talking to his imagined woman and potential girlfriend, named Susan, in the mirror.
"Good morning, Susan? Have you lost weight, Susan? You look so skinny, Susan. Is that a new dress, Susan? I love you, Susan. Blow me, Susan."
The library was just crawling with women and he felt certain that she was here. Because they were here alone, he figured they all had one common trait. They were all lonely. Psychically inclined, he could sense their loneliness. Only, even though he'd settle for any Susan, if he had to, he'd rather have one with a sense of humor. One who was loyal, kind, and understanding. He was looking for that one special woman, his Susan. Desperately seeing Susan, he needed a woman named Susan. Don't know why, but he really like that name and if he was going to go through all the trouble of having a girlfriend and, possibly, a wife, she had to be named Susan.
There was a black woman, but she looked angry and she gave him a hostile look, when she caught him staring over at her. Definitely, she didn't look like a Susan. Susan would never look at him in that way, so angry and unapproachable. Immediately, he discounted her.
Still, he never had a black girlfriend. Actually, he never had any girlfriend, white, black, brown, red, or yellow. He wondered what it would be like to have an African American lover, one named Susan, of course. He imagined them talking and laughing, but he never quite felt connected, as he would feel being with a woman of his own race. Nonetheless, if he found and hit it off with a black woman named Susan, he certainly consider her as girlfriend material.
Then, he focused on an Asian woman. At first glance, he couldn't tell if she was Chinese, Japanese, or Korean. The Chinese have a rounder face, he thought, the Koreans have a more longer and angular face, and the Japanese, especially the women, have softer features. With a closer examination of her, for sure, she looked Japanese.
He never had an Asian girlfriend either, specifically one that was Japanese. She was pretty and he imagined kissing her lips, while calling her Susan. Only, he couldn't help but think of all those Japanese videos of women being sexually assaulted, molested, and raped in the crowded subways of Japan. Even though he forced himself to watch those sexually disturbing videos over and again, as a way to learn more about different cultures and the world around him, of course, he wouldn't want his Susan to have been a victim of that deplorable sexual behavior.
While looking at her and considering her as a potential girlfriend, so long as he name was Susan, he couldn't help but wonder if anyone pulled down her top on a crowded bus and/or felt her tits on a subway train in Japan. Such disgusting behavior, why are Japanese women so submissive and the Japanese men so perverted? If anyone pulled up the skirt or pulled down the top of an American woman, they'd either scream, kick them in the balls, mace them in the eyes, shoot them with a gun, or force them to marry them in a shotgun wedding with their father Jed, her brother Jeb, and her other brother Jeb.
Looking at the Japanese woman as a potential love match, maybe, he thought, she's never been to Japan. Maybe she was born here and is an American citizen. Now that's a horse of a different color all together. For sure, she could be his Susan, so long as her name was Susan.
Nonetheless, still hung up on all those Japanese videos, he couldn't help but wonder if anyone pulled up her skirt and pulled down her panties and/or pulled down her top and felt her breasts. He couldn't help but wonder if she was raped on a bus or on a train by a group of perverted Japanese men, who forced her to fuck and suck them.
Maybe, instead of being sexually assaulted on the subway, she was molested in a pool, by a group of perverted men. She definitely had a body that would look good in a bikini. Where are all those Ninja warriors and Samurai swordsmen, when all their women are being attacked?
Then, getting more serious about her, he couldn't help but wonder if her name was Susan. She could have been named Susan. She looked a little like a Susan. Only, it was probably just wishful thinking on his part. For sure, he wouldn't mind having a Japanese girlfriend, as long as her name was Susan. As he passed by her, unable to get a read on her, not feeling a connection, he continued his search.
No wonder why he's alone. All this time, he's been looking for only a Caucasian girlfriend named Susan, while ignoring about 70% of the world's population, by not considering other races. He continued his secret Susan surveillance by walking around the library.
In walking the floors and aisles of the library, he must have viewed a few hundred women, it seemed like. Certainly, at least, several dozen. If he was to take a census, there were a ratio of five times the women to men at the library that day. Surely, with all these women, there was someone here named Susan. The fifth most popular female name in 1948-50, 1952-1956, second 1957-1960, third 1962-1964, back to fifth in 1965 and 1967, in recent years, Susan fell out of favor against the names of Sarah, Jessica, Ashley, Emma, and Emily, and never again made it to the top five favorite female names.
Then, in an epiphany, he thought about having Susan paged over the loudspeaker to see how many Susan's would come to the librarian's counter. With all the women named Susan standing up at the counter, he could pick and choose his Susan, while waiting to feel the connection that he needed to have. Standing motionless, while staring at the librarian's counter, he imagined hearing the page, while imagining seeing all the women named Susan walking to the counter.
"Susan, please come to the main desk."
"Hi, I'm Susan."
"I'm Susan, too."
"Did you just page Susan?"
