Like many of you, occasionally I find myself in the mood to seek out folks I've known in the past on Facebook and see if I can reconnect with them. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, and only occasionally do you wind up with a restraining order.
I was in such a mood last Thursday, and one of the people I thought about was a girl named Gwen Grisbane who used to date a friend of mine, Bill Kirschbaum. I always thought she was kind of a cool person, so I decided to type her a brief friendly message and see if we could hook up again.
This is Perry Block, remember me? We were in a few classes together in college and for a while you dated a friend of mine, Bill Kirschbaum.
Well, how are you? I was looking up some old - I mean, former - friends and acquaintances on Facebook and you came to mind. I always thought you were kind of a cool person, and I usually enjoyed myself when I was around you, which I guess was not as often as I might have liked.
So, did you ever become an actress? Bet you didn't know I saw you in every performance of every play you were ever in at school, including Mourning Becomes Annoying and The Glass Menage-a-Trois. You were always the best actor on the stage, especially in the scenes in which there were no other actors on the stage. I still have all the play programs you signed for me at home. Under glass.
Do you remember when we were in D.C. Balin's Shakespeare class together? I always liked it when you sat near me and I could gaze freely at your flawless profile and full sensual lips. The day you read from Romeo and Juliet you took my breath away, and I didn't get it back until a couple of weeks later!
I have some wonderful memories of you, Gwen. Remember when a bunch of us went to Atlantic City together one summer's day in 1970? I can still see you emerging from the ocean that magical afternoon, your blond hair flashing in the sunlight and your dazzling blue eyes bedeviling everyone they beheld. The droplets of ocean water clung to your supple amber skin like an army of ardent lovers, caressing and adoring your every pore.
You were like a Botticelli angel, Gwen! An angel with a warm caring nature, a knock-out sense of humor, and a heart as big as you made my penis every time I was around you!
Oh, my Gwen! Can I finally call you "my Gwen?" I so longed to call you that during the cherished time I knew you, but had not the courage to speak! You were more beautiful than Cleopatra, Helen of Troy, and Scarlett Johansson combined, but combined as just one person, not three people stuck together with six arms and six legs and three vaginas.
I love you, Gwen! Let me shout it to the rooftops, or at least to the aluminum siding, I'm not that good at shouting! I will spend the rest of my life doing nothing but striving to make you happy, showering you with love and devotion, and never letting your Netflix subscription lapse.
Till that moment that our lips meet and hearts beat as one, dearest Gwen!!!
I found a post dated May 16, 2012. It read:
So delighted I have finally come out! Misty and I are off for Tuscany and will not return. Nor will I return to Facebook. Goodbye.
Oh. Gee. I really wanted to hook up again with Gwen Grisbane.
She was kind of a cool person.