Flawed Marketing

"Progress from Love Guru to Sex Magnet."  That was the title of an email in my spam folder today.

With my finger hovering over the delete key, I reflected for a moment.  A love guru?  It seems to me a person could be worse.  In fact, I don't think I'd really MIND being a love guru, you know?  That would make me a master of love, or an expert in all things lovely, perhaps; it sounds quite pleasant.  But a sex magnet?  Well, I wouldn't call that "progress," would you?  I've spent about 50 years or so of my life making sure that's the LAST thing I was.  Okay, admittedly, there were a few years along the way where being a sex magnet seemed appealing, but that pretty much just got me married and pregnant, and not necessarily in that order either.  Besides, I'm pretty sure a bona fide sex magnet wouldn't get very much quilting done, don't you agree?

So I pressed the delete key.  "Are you sure you want to permanently delete this message?" my computer asked me.  "Yes, yes, yes," I muttered, as I pressed down on the key again, "I'm VERY sure."

Now I'm watching my spam folder for an email that promises to turn an ordinary, middle-aged woman into a Looooove Guru.  If you get one, forward it to me, okay?