To Tell the Truth

A/N:  Written for a prompt: write a short story or poem about a personal ad.

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Opening her water bottle, Sharon took a long gulp.  It was finally her lunch hour at her job, where she worked as a lawyer’s secretary.  After a long, hard morning, she was looking forward to spending the time she had surfing the internet and making some phone calls she’d been putting off.

Before she did though, she made a point of checking the joint email account she shared with her husband, Bill.  Since he was a construction worker, he didn’t need an address for work, and in general he wasn’t one for email. 

Scanning the list of usual junk and unimportant stuff, she paused when she came across an alert that Bill had received a message on Soulmates.com.  She couldn’t help but chuckle. 

It all started a few nights ago, when they’d gotten into a heated argument about looks, and who let his or her body go more in the years since their wedding.  They each reasoned there was only one way to settle it – a bet.  Whoever got the most responses from an ad placed on an internet dating service in a week would win, and the loser had to do the other’s household chores for a month.  Neither were worried about the possibility of infidelity since they were a very loving couple.  This was natural for them; they were always looking for an interesting bet.  Besides, it wasn’t like anyone who responded to those ads would be terribly disappointed if they didn’t hear from someone they had never even met. 

Curiosity getting the better of her, Sharon clicked on the alert and followed the link to the message on the site.  Her jaw dropped.  The message was from a busty, gorgeous brunette woman in her twenties.

Something is wrong here, Sharon thought.  After reading the woman’s profile, she became more convinced of that fact. Why would a young up-and-coming fashion designer be interested in my husband?  True, Sharon thought he was still handsome, but after all, they were both in their forties.  If his hair line receded any more she’d be forced to put Rogaine in his Christmas stocking.

It occurred to Sharon that Bill had probably fudged the truth a bit in his personal ad.  She wasn’t surprised – while he would never do that if he was really looking for a girlfriend, his competitiveness made him a different person at times.  She didn’t mind if he’d stretched the truth a little. Heck, she wasn’t completely truthful either.  It wasn’t mentioned in her ad that her curly honey-blonde hair was dyed, or that her green eyes were so bright because of a side effect of contacts she wore.  And who really cared if she’d said her weight was one hundred and twenty pounds, when she was actually twenty pounds heavier?

Her curiosity was getting the better of her.  Sharon clicked on her husband’s profile. 

Then she laughed.  She laughed so hard, the only thing preventing her from rolling onto the floor in front of her coworkers was her dignity.  She couldn’t  begin to count how many lies her husband had posted to trick poor, unsuspecting twenty-something women. 

Initially Sharon wanted to call him right away so he could hear her laughter, and yell at him after that.  But then she got an ingenious idea.

Revenge-fueled excitement prompted her to sign into his account.  She knew his username and password, since she’d created them for him.  Though she was thrilled with the idea, she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about what she was about to do.  But she shook it off – wasn’t it her husband who always said, “All’s fair in love and bets”?

For starters, that picture had to go.  Sharon deleted the college photo, knowing he had copies at home.  As a substitute, she put in a picture she had in her cell phone, a recent one of him sleeping on the couch with his mouth hanging open.

Then she moved on to the description.  He’d listed his age as ‘thirty-two.’  With a smirk, she inserted his real age – forty-six.  He’d put his real eye color and hair color, blue and light brown respectively.  But he’d described his hair as “thick and wavy.”  Yeah, maybe ten years ago.  She was sure to switch that with “balding, in desperate need of hair growing product.”

She didn’t stop there.  Under occupation, he’d claimed he was a doctor.  Rolling her eyes, she typed in “construction worker.”  For hobbies, he’d claimed “I enjoy sailing my yacht on weekends and a good wine tasting.”  She replaced that with “I usually watch sports games in my underwear and chew fattening foods with my mouth open.” 

After all, wasn’t it always better to tell the truth?

When her work was done, she looked over it with a satisfied smile.  Then she pressed “Save and Post.”

Hours later, she was checking her mail again.  With an amused smirk she saw she had an email from her husband, who usually got home from work before her and checked his inbox from the computer there.  Figuring he must’ve seen his profile, she opened it with a tentative click. 

Dear Sharon,

Care to explain why my Soulmates.com account received a message from a sixty-year-old grandmother looking for “companionship”?

Sharon couldn’t scroll down to see if there was any more of the email.  Her hands were too busy clutching the laughter-induced stitch in her side.