Dating is a zoo
While I was strolling through the San Diego Zoo, as usual professing my Lionel Richie-like endless love for every adorable animal I encountered and seething hate for all the stupid humans hogging my air, a billboard advertising a “Dating Service for the Desperate” caught my eye. My first thought was, that’s redundant. *Everyone* who joins a dating service is desperate. I speak from experience. My second thought was, sign me up.
The display was adjacent to the tiger exhibit, where no doubt countless severely single cat connoisseurs swarm and go ape every day. In the advertising field, this approach is known as catering to your target demographic.
This is all vaguely reminiscent of the time I spied a humdinger of an error in an editorial assistant’s article while performing my nightly proofing duties. I can’t remember who wrote it, what it was about, or how long ago it was, because I’m a highly skilled storyteller whose multimillion-dollar book deal to pen my memoir will materialize any. day. now. But I do recall that what the reporter meant was “dire straits”; what he or she or shim actually wrote was “dire straights.” Which I instantly became convinced would make the most awesome name ever for a dating service geared toward hopeless heterosexuals.