Free News Blues by Marianne Mancusi

working on that Mexican drug cartel one. Miguel had left a voice
     mail for me this morning before I got in and I couldn’t wait to call him back and get the scoop.
    I just had a feeling that was going to be the story that changed my life.
    “How about that guy? He’s cute.” Jodi pressed a well-manicured finger up to the computer screen. Back at the station, she
     and I had holed up in her office and opened the Match.com dating site.
    “He’s not a blond, blue-eyed surfer from Czechoslovakia.”
    She rolled her eyes. “Tell me again why he has to be that?”
    “That’s my type.” I shrugged. I didn’t want to admit my embarrassing lie if I didn’t have to. Plus, Jodi might get suspicious
     about Jamie. I wasn’t ready for the lecture she’d be sure to give if she heard of my overnight adventure. As much as I loved
     Jodi, let’s just say she once had a cheating fiancé of her own and wasn’t too keen on encouraging her friends to engage in
     such activities.
    “Since when is your type a blond? You’re always dating brunettes. You hate blonds.”
    “Tastes change. Besides, I like Owen Wilson. He’s a blond.”
    “Right.” Jodi gave me a weird look and went back to searching. Unfortunately, there were fewer blond-haired Czechs who lived
     in Southern California and surfed than one might have imagined.
    “Click on him.” I pointed to a cute blond guy. Jodi complied and a profile popped up.
    Ah-ha! He was perfect.
    Blond, blue-eyed surfer. Lived in Czechoslovakia for several years as a child though he was originally from Germany. Under
     hobbies he listed surfing. I couldn’t believe my luck. My imaginary guy actually existed. I should try this Match.com thing
     more often.
    According to his profile, Ted liked long walks on the beach, cuddling up to a roaring fire. Thunderstorms. (Why did everyone
     always put that in their “likes” category? Was it supposed to be romantic or something?)
    I pushed Jodi out of the way and jotted off a quick e-mail to Ted, asking him to check out my profile and whether or not he
     wanted to go out tomorrow night. I normally would have been a bit more coy, but these were desperate times.
    Then I went in and changed my profile so my likes agreed with his likes. Sure, I didn’t really enjoy foreign films or follow
     European football all that closely, but the likelihood was that these topics wouldn’t come up on a first date anyway and I
     only needed that one date to prove to Jamie I hadn’t lied.
    I clicked back to his profile to see what he put under family. Ten kids?! He wanted ten kids? Wow, I felt bad for the woman
     he’d make his broodmare. But okay. I typed “ten” under my desire for kids. Why not? I wouldn’t know him long enough for it
     to matter.
    Satisfied that I had created a profile that would intrigue him, I clicked off the site. Tomorrow night at this time, I was
     sure to be on a date.

    Ding, dong!
    Why did the doorbell always ring the second I stepped in the shower? I could be conditioning my hair at four A.M. and someone
     would be sure to stop by. It’d better not be a vacuum salesman, I thought as I turned off the water and grabbed a towel. Or
     some Girl Scout. Actually, that wouldn’t be so bad on account of getting some cookies out of the deal. Thin Mints. Mmmmm.
    Ding, dong!
    “I’m coming!” Whoever it was, they sure were impatient. I scurried down the hallway, clad only in my towel, and opened the
     door.
    Lulu. And she had a big backpack, stuffed to the brim.
    “Hey, sis, what’s up?” I asked, already kind of getting the gist.
    “You said I could stay with you, right? Well, here I am.” She pushed by me and dumped her grimy backpack on my beige IKEA
     couch.
    Oh, great. Just what I needed. My crazy sister living in my tiny apartment. She stayed with me for a weekend once when my
     parents went to Vegas, and she trashed the place in two days. It was not for nothing her childhood nickname had been Pigpen.
    “Did something