Lost and found

Wed, 07 Mar 2001 20:30:00 +0000

So it's true: Everyone looks for his or her first love on the Web. We all do it. Mostly because we can. Then time passes, we start to browse, check stock quotes and news, and we forget to keep looking. I did. I couldn't find him at first and, I admit, I did not diligently keep trying. So imagine my surprise when I checked an e-mail service that I rarely use, and there it was: a message from a screen name that I recognized instantly, sent to a screen name sufficiently different from my real one but, nevertheless, me.

Lo and behold, he had found me.

The message said, "I once knew an Eve Aisling Parnell -- and that's an odd name. She used to live in Rockaway. Did you?" I opened my member profile immediately and rued the visibility of E.A. Parnell, astonishing in its boldness. Why had I not created a sufficiently masking moniker, the way I had for my other e-mail accounts? Was I in trouble? Oh, was I in trouble.

"Replique me, my baby." He met me on the street corner and grinned. Replique was one of the fragrances I wore back then. And then there was Femme, by the House of Rochas -- who could forget that one? It sent him up the wall. We girls wore it, a veritable madam's parfum, only on weekend nights if we were lucky enough to score some -- it would never do for school days.

Salon.com > Eve Parnell

Lost and found