MLK's Not the Only One with a Dream

When Rice Chex with Almond Milk and I parted company last week, he said he'd email me "if he had something to say" and over the weekend I was treated to a message in my inbox with the apt subject line "something to say." Imagine that.

Indeed that's what he had, and dove right in with, "A couple of things actually...I better not see that picture of my cereal on any of these cheap websites, at least not without getting some money..."

Shit.

He also warned me that, should he see one of his screenplay ideas on television anytime in the near future, "[my] ass will be in front of a judge quicker than [I] can say Kashi."

Jesus, is he psychic or something? (About the picture, not the story.) There's no way he could have seen it. I mean, I haven't given the website address to anyone besides my roommates yet, but still... What are the chances he would, like, Google the exact text of the emails he sent me? Slim, right? Because, that whole Zen Buddhist thing aside, he did kind of seem like the sort of guy that, provoked in just the right way, might possibly go off on, like, a violent, bloody rampage or a mid-sized school shooting or something. Possibly.

So I thought it best to step away from the email for a couple days. (Ignoring a problem, I find, is a perfectly productive way of dealing with it.)

Prudent decision making I think because, upon re-visitation, I read the email (for better or worse) as ripe with all the glorious subtle humor I'd so enjoyed in Rice Chex with Almond Milk's previous emails, rather than a psychotic threat and, as such, replied with a nonchalant "Not sure which cheap cereal-picture-mongering websites you mean, but that's probably for the best. I'll be sure to give you a cut of any profits I make off that highly sought-after photographic prize, though. And your [story] is safe with me, though I'll warn you, I can say "Kashi" pretty quickly)." Ha ha.

See, all in good fun. Like Russian roulette. Possible horrific, early death averted. For today. I hope.

Maybe enough to scare away the casual cereal dater but, alas, some dreams die hard (especially those of one who could be classified as a habitual dreamer) so this weekend, disheartened by the surprisingly small pool of Craigslist readers who find public cereal consumption with strangers and appealing notion, I joined what I'm reassured is hundreds of thousands of young and fabulous desperately-seekings in the world of online dating. The (free) website that I've chosen to enlist with promises that there's an abundance (dare I say gobs) of gilled, scaled, fin-sporting creatures in that proverbial expanse of water. And while that's all very promising for your average online dater, I do have to wonder how much fish enjoy cereal.