Read Love Virtually Page 9


  Bye,

  Leo

  Two hours later

  Re: Mia!

  O.K. Leo, our meeting can wait, I’m reconciled to that. You’ll make a patient woman of me yet! I’m delighted your sister has been thinking about us. But how can she be so sure that our “relationship” would be over if we met? And who does she think would end it: you or me?

  One other thing: in your email yesterday evening you referred to me as “happily married.” Why did you put “happily married” in quotation marks? That makes me think you wanted to make some kind of rhetorical remark, with a tiny tinge of facetiousness to it. Do you know what I mean?

  Now back to Mia, you’ve misunderstood me entirely there. She’s not just some kind of eye-catching beauty from a fashion mag. Mia is a really lovely woman, and she’s slipped into being single without wanting to. A typical case of relationship mismanagement in her younger years. When she was nineteen she met a man, an Adonis on the outside, a bundle of testosterone, a real sex machine. But on the inside he was empty, especially in the brains department. Two terrible years of waiting and hoping, and then finally he opened his mouth and the magic was gone. So she’s twenty-one and immediately meets another muscle-bound hunk. And she thinks: There’s got to be more to this one. But there isn’t, so on to the next. This develops into a classic female pattern: she thinks she needs the same kind of guy each time, to correct the “mistakes” made the first time around. But with each subsequent mistake she’s drawn ever more strongly to the same type.

  Mia’s men all looked identical, and not one of them was able to compensate for the shortcomings of his predecessor. On the contrary, each succeeded in reiterating that his predecessor was just as hollow as he was himself. For two years she’s been far too exhausted and unmotivated to meet new men. She never makes any approaches. Recently she said to me that if I ever met anyone nice, I should feel free to introduce her. But she doesn’t want to have to make too much effort. If it doesn’t happen of its own accord, then it won’t happen at all. That’s Mia for you. I’m telling you, Leo, you’ll really like her.

  An hour and a half later

  Re: Mia!

  Dear Emmi,

  I’ll deal with your opening questions first:

  1) My sister didn’t specify which of the two of us would be the first to end our “relationship” (is it O.K. to put relationship in quotation marks?) after a meeting. She was probably thinking that our written exchanges would be incompatible with face-to-face conversation, and that would soon end the whole thing.

  2) It’s astonishing how much you pick up on! I didn’t put “happily married” in quotation marks consciously. Maybe the software does it automatically. No, in all seriousness, the expression is yours and I was quoting it, because I always feel that “happily married” is a subjective notion. I doubt, for example, that what I understand by “happily married” is the same as how you or your husband perceive it. In any case it really isn’t important, is it? It was never meant to be facetious, and in future I’ll leave out the quotation marks, O.K.?

  And now to your friend Mia. Next time you see her, by all means say you know a man who has also tried repeatedly to correct the “mistakes” from the first time, except that he only needs, or rather needed, one woman to do so. A man who’s just as exhausted and unmotivated to meet new people. A man who’s also stopped making any kind of advance toward women, who doesn’t want to have to make too much effort. Everything’s got to come to him, and if it doesn’t then it’s not going to happen. Tell her, “That’s Leo for you, Mia!” But don’t say, “You’re going to love him,” because that presupposes that we might actually have to look each other in the eye. And at the moment I suspect that would be too much “relationship effort” for both of us.

  (I’m also slightly put out by how swiftly you’re handing me over to your best friend. Emmi, where’s your jealousy?)

  Forty minutes later

  Re: Mia!

  Oh Leo, spare me the jealousy talk! I can’t “own” you beyond your messages in my in-box. Anyway, if you were to “belong” to one of my best friends, then you’d belong to me a bit too. (Do you really think I’d set you up without considering what I might get out of it myself?) I’ve told Mia about you plenty of times. Do you want to know what she thinks? (I wouldn’t put it past you to say: No, I’m not interested. But I’m going to tell you anyway.) She said, “You see, Emmi, that’s the kind of man I’d like, someone who’d rather get an email from me than have sex. All men want sex. But it’s a classy man who’d rather have the former!”

  Five minutes later

  Re: Mia!

  You’re back on sex again, Emmi!

  Three minutes later

  Re: Mia!

  Thanks, I noticed that too. It’s because I’ve immersed myself in the male domain.

  Eight minutes later

  Re: Mia!

  It seems like you’re eager to immerse yourself, so you can write uninhibitedly about sex.

  Six minutes later

  Re: Mia!

  Don’t be so sanctimonious, Leo! Have you forgotten your drunken email about the blindfolds and your hungover leching the next day? You’re not exactly the sexless preacher type, even though sometimes that’s how you’d like to come across! So should I arrange a meeting between you and Mia or not?

  Three minutes later

  Re: Mia!

  You’re not serious, are you?

  One minute later

  Re: Mia!

  Of course I’m serious! I’m convinced that neither you nor Mia would need to “make too much effort” to hit it off right away. Trust me—I know what makes people tick.

  Seven minutes later

  Re: Mia!

  Thank you, but no thanks. It would be a little perverse if I met Emmi’s friend rather than Emmi.

  Good night!

  YOUR Leo (still)

  Eight minutes later

  Re: Mia!

  But you don’t want to meet me in person!

  Good night to you (also still and forever more)

  YOUR Emmi (sort of )

  Fifty seconds later

  Subject: (no subject)

  Oh, and there’s one other thing: I haven’t even started on your remarks about “happily married” in quotation marks!

  Take that as a warning.

  Sleep well, my friend.

  Emmi

  The following evening

  Subject: ???

  Won’t I get any emails from Leo today? Is he angry with me?

  About Mia?

  Night-night,

  Emmi

  The following morning

  Subject: Mia

  Good morning, Emmi.

  I’ve had a good think about your offer. If you arrange it, and if your friend Mia really wants to, then I will meet her!

  Best wishes,

  Leo

  Fifteen minutes later

  Re: Mia

  Leeeeoooo? Are you playing with me?

  Half an hour later

  Re:

  No, not at all. I mean it. I’ll happily meet Mia for coffee. Be so kind as to sort out all the logistics, dear Emmi. Saturday or Sunday afternoon would suit. A café somewhere in the center would be good. Either Café Huber again, or Europa, or Café Paris, I don’t mind.

  Forty minutes later

  Re: Mia

  You’re so weird, Leo. Why the sudden change of heart? Are you sure you’re not making fun of me? Do you really want me to ask Mia? Promise me you won’t pull out at the last minute. Mia’s not the kind of woman you can play games with.

  Three hours later

  Re: Mia

  And I’m not the kind of man who plays games with a woman he doesn’t know; at least not those kind of games. I just changed my mind, that’s all. Why should I not meet a woman who comes with such a warm recommendation? I can’t object to a noncommittal hour of conversation. The more I think about it, Emmi, the more I like your arrangement.

  Have a
nice evening,

  Leo

  Ten minutes later

  Re: Mia

  Now I’m starting to think about my role in all this, Leo! I’ll call Mia and let you know.

  A minute and a half later

  Re: Mia

  What role are you thinking about, and why?

  Twenty minutes later

  Re: Mia

  Dear Leo,

  I suspect you’re convinced that I’m the one who’s going to pull out. Because you think I never had any intention of introducing you to my friend—and an extremely attractive friend at that. You think “Mia” is all a ruse to make myself seem more interesting to you, am I right? Well you’re wrong, my dear Leo! I’m going to call Mia now, and if she says yes, you’d better make sure you do meet. Otherwise I’ll be seriously pissed off!

  But for now, much love,

  Emmi

  Eighteen minutes later

  Re: Mia

  But Mia will say no. Because Mia won’t understand why she should go on a date with a stranger who’s a friend of her friend—what’s more, a friend who her friend has never even met. Mia will ask herself, quite rightly, why she should meet this man. Mia will feel like a guinea pig. But I’m happy to be proved wrong. Good night, send my regards to the wine cabinet! When “Operation Mia” has been concluded we can raise another glass of wine to us, Emmi. How about that?

  The next day

  Subject: Date with Mia

  Hello Leo,

  How are you? So hot today. I don’t know what else I can take off. Do you ever wear shorts and sandals? Do you prefer T-shirts or polo shirts, or a perfectly ironed shirt? How many buttons do you leave undone? Jeans, chinos or—gulp!— Bermudas? How bright does it have to be before you’ll wear sunglasses? Do you have hairy forearms? What about a hairy chest?—O.K., O.K., I’ll stop there.

  What I wanted to say was that I called Mia. In principle she’d be happy to meet you for coffee one day. “Why not?” she said. But you’ll have to phone her. (Which you won’t, of course.) Mia doesn’t believe that you want to meet her at all—she thinks it’s a ruse by her friend Emmi who’s desperate to get her together with someone. And she wants to know what you look like. He’s not ugly, I told her, at least I don’t think he is. But I’ve only seen his sister . . . Well, this is all a bit laborious. I’m sure nothing will come of it. I hope you survive today’s heat wave!

  Your Emmi

  Two and a half hours later

  Re: Date with Mia

  Dear Emmi,

  In response to your questions, I’m absolutely fine. Terribly hot, actually! When you write, “I don’t know what else I can take off,” you want me to imagine what Emmi looks like when she has no idea what to take off. You’ve won, Emmi, I’m imagining it now!

  I only wear shorts on the beach. (But there isn’t one here, is there?) Sandals: never, but if you want I could put some on—for our first meeting. T-shirt or shirt? Both, often one over the other. Buttons undone? Depends on the weather. Right now all my buttons are open, but then again no one’s watching. Pants? Jeans rather than chinos. Bermudas? Definitely for our first meeting, Emmi, as long as it happens in summer (sometime in the next few years)! Sunglasses? When it’s sunny. Hair? Head, chin, sideburns, arms, legs, chest . . . are you getting the picture?

  Oh, yes, Mia. Could I have her phone number, please?

  Enjoy the heat.

  Yours,

  Leo

  Forty-five seconds later

  Re: Date with Mia

  What? Are you seriously going to phone her? You still think I’m bluffing, don’t you? Here you are then: 0773 863 6271.

  Mia Lechberger. Happy now?

  An hour and a half later

  Re: Date with Mia

  Thanks, Emmi. Extraordinary to be sweating so much at the end of May . . . I’m off to a two-day conference in Budapest.

  I’ll write as soon as I’m back. Take care, Emmi.

  Love,

  Leo

  Two days later

  Subject: (no subject)

  Hi Leo,

  Are you back? Guess who I spoke to this morning? And guess what she told me? “Your email friend phoned me. I was so surprised I nearly hung up. But he was really nice! Such a polite, friendly guy, a bit shy, charming . . . blah blah blah, yadda yadda” “. . . And he’s got such a lovely voice! And such a nice accent! . . .” Leo, Leo, you must have pulled out all the stops. I have to admit, I never thought you’d actually call her. I hope you have fun when you meet up tomorrow!

  By the way, Mia asked if I’d like to come too. I replied that you definitely wouldn’t be happy with that. I told her that I’m a kind of fantasy figure to you, a woman with three faces, none of which he’s set eyes on. He doesn’t want to have to commit to any one of them. It’s true, isn’t it?

  Much love,

  Emmi

  Three days later

  Re:

  Hello Emmi,

  I’m back, but I’m sorry to say I’m still frantically busy. Your friend Mia sounds really nice on the phone. I’ll be in touch,

  Leo

  P.S. You don’t have to make a personal appearance, Emmi.

  I assume Mia will relay all the details of our meeting while they’re still fresh.

  Twelve minutes later

  Re:

  You’ve been so mischievous recently, Leo. I really don’t know what to think. Well, good luck!

  Emmi

  P.S. See ya! (In my next life.)

  CHAPTER SIX

  Three days later

  Subject: (no subject)

  Hi Leo,

  How’s it going?

  Love,

  Emmi

  Fifteen minutes later

  Re:

  Hi Emmi,

  Yes, not bad. How about you?

  Eight minutes later

  Re:

  Good, thanks. Apart from the heat. Is this normal for the end of May? 95 degrees in May—has it ever been that hot in the past? I’m sure it hasn’t! And otherwise? Everything O.K.?

  Twenty minutes later

  Re:

  Yes, thanks, Emmi, everything’s fine right now. You’re right— the temperature used to get to 95 degrees at the end of July, beginning of August, perhaps one or two days a year, no more than that. O.K., maybe it was for four or five days. But not in May, it’s never been like this in May! I tell you, global warming is going to become a hot topic. It’s not just some campaign launched by bored climate researchers. I think we’re going to have to get used to hot summers every year.

  Three minutes later

  Re:

  You’re right, Leo, the variations in temperature are getting more and more extreme. And how are you spending these steamy days and nights?

  Fourteen minutes later

  Re:

  And we’re going to have more frequent and violent storms. Mudslides, floods. There’ll be periods of drought too. Do you know what that means? It would be foolish to underestimate the economic and ecological consequences of climate change.

  Five minutes later

  Re:

  Pineapples growing in the Alps. Compulsory snow chains for all cars in Apulia. Rice paddies on the Faroes. Stalls selling antifreeze in Damascus. Colonies of camels in Murmansk.

  Yacht clubs in the Sahara.

  Eighteen minutes later

  Re:

  Soon you’ll be able to fry eggs without a stove in the Scottish Highlands, assuming free-range chickens don’t come pre-roasted and lay hard-boiled eggs, even in winter.

  Two minutes later

  Re:

  Stop, Leo, I can’t take any more. I give up: How did it go? And please please please don’t now ask me: “How did what go?” Let’s try to save ourselves a few keystrokes, O.K.?

  Thirteen minutes later

  Re:

  You mean my Sunday meeting with Mia? It was nice! Very nice, in fact. Thanks for asking.

  One minute later

  Re:

 
What do you mean “Sunday meeting”? Does that mean there’s been a “Monday meeting” too?

  Eight minutes later

  Re:

  Yes, Emmi, funnily enough we met up again yesterday evening. We went out for Italian. Do you know La Spezia in Kenienstrasse? It’s got a fabulously intimate courtyard. Perfect in this heat. Best of all, it’s very quiet with good, unobtrusive music and excellent wines from Piedmont. I can heartily recommend La Spezia.

  Fifty seconds later

  Re:

  Did you click?

  Eighteen minutes later

  Re:

  Did we click? You always use these technical expressions! You’d better ask Mia. She’s one of your best friends, after all. She even says she is your best friend. I’m afraid I’ve got to sign off now for today, Emmi. Let’s email again tomorrow. Good night. I hope your bedroom’s not oppressively hot.

  Three minutes later

  Re:

  But it’s not late, Leo. Have you got something going on this evening? Are you seeing Mia? If you do see her today, could you ask her to give me a call? I can’t seem to get hold of her. Have a nice, hot evening, and enjoy yourself.

  Emmi

  P.S. And here’s a tip: definitely bring up climate change. I’m sure Mia could listen to you talk about it for hours, you make it sound so fascinating.

  Two minutes later

  Re:

  I’m not seeing Mia again until tomorrow. I’m just beat today and I want to go to bed early. Good night, I’m shutting down now.

  Leo

  Thirty seconds later

  Re:

  Night.

  Three days later

  Subject: (no subject)

  Hi Emmi,

  Are you looking out the window too? Spooky, isn’t it? A hailstorm’s like a taste of the end of the world. You’ve got this strange, ochre veil hanging over the sky, all of a sudden it’s covered by a dark gray curtain, and then billions of these white pebbles hurtle to earth at breakneck speed. What’s that movie called where it rains toads, or frogs, or chickens? Do you happen to know?

  Love,

  Leo

  An hour and a half later

  Re:

  Animal Farm. The Frog Prince. Kentucky Fried Chicken—I don’t hear from you for three days, and then I get these effusive minilectures on meteorology. It’s driving me nuts! Please email them to someone else. Do you think I’ve stuck with you in my in-box these past six months, and do you imagine that I’ve spent God knows how many hours a day for the past weeks and months, just so we can now start discussing heavy showers and ochre veils hanging over the sky? If you’ve got something to tell me about yourself, go ahead. If there’s anything you want to know about me, ask away. But I’ve got better things to do than correspond about the weather. Has Mia turned your head so far that all you can now see is hailstones? I’ve got a couple more questions, since we’re on the subject. Did you ask her to keep quiet about your dates for the moment?