One By Night and Other Collected Tales

The Magic of the Internet

Deborah brightened the instant she saw him step through the door with that day's UPS shipment in tow. She'd left it on the stoop just so she could watch him carry it in.

"That's quite a package you've got there! Could you expedite it in my general direction? I may need it overnighted."

"Um, it's just a bunch of reams of copy paper. Hardly worth getting excited about. But if you're curious to see it, we could open it."

"Sure? Why the heck not? I could film the unboxing and post it on social media. I bet the world's seen nothing like it." Sarcasm dripped dark and oily from every syllable. Her plum raisin-glossed lips twisted in a scowl.

He just adjusted his glasses atop the bridge of his nose, squinted at her with his boyish brown eyes and smirked, then carted the box toward the supply room.

Well, at least she got to watch him walk away. His bicep bulge as he gripped the box, too, was something to behold. Once he was out of earshot, she let loose a wolf-whistle and fanned herself with her French-manicured hands, as though for the benefit of a studio audience.

She sighed, frustrated. A similar pick-up line had worked so well for Samantha on Sex in the City! Why couldn't he just take a hint?

It had been a seven-year infatuation thus far, seemingly one-sided, with Stephen from Accounting. To this day, the only figures he seemed to have eyes for were the ones in his financial reports. She'd never once caught him ogling anyone in the office-- not even Stacy with her cashmere "sweater puppies" on full display and skirts that scarcely covered the goods.

Could he be gay? Or asexual? Or was he just one of those types who refused to so much as entertain the possibility of romance at the office? Maybe he was somewhere on the autistic spectrum and just didn't understand double entendre?

Meanwhile, she and Maria the temp giggled daily in the break room about the need for "under-the-desk interns" while sipping their coffee.

Rumor had it, incidentally, that Stacy actually HAD such an intern the form of Phillip. At least, Maria claimed a pair of black lace thong panties had fallen out of his pocket just after he'd been in Stacy's office. Scandalous!

Maybe she should try dropping a pair of thong panties on Stephen's desk? Even he couldn't fail to ignore that! Hell, she could write her phone number on the tag! But no... not even Stacy would do something so brazen.

The Pirate Lord in paperback and a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chubby Hubby, yet again! Another weekend spent in bed, or in the tub, fantasizing and reading.

She scanned through her office email one more time. Nothing new, nothing exciting-- just like her life. Maybe something Earth-shattering awaited in her personal email, though. Could be a response from any of the dozens of intros she'd sent out on the dating app Maria encouraged her to join?

"Nada," she mumbled to herself as she scrolled on her phone, past advertisements and junk mail that hadn't been caught by her spam blocker.

But then, something caught her eye. "Fool-Proof Love Spell." Curious, she opened the message.

"Tired of being spurned by the object of your desire? Order our patented love spell kit, and say goodbye to loneliness. Guaranteed to work within one cycle of the moon, or your money back. Only $19.95."

I've spent more than that on ice cream this month, alone. What the hell? Why not? she thought, clicking on the embedded hotlink.

The website featured a banner image of lit candles, crystal balls, Tarot cards, and bundles of herbs. Madam Vysmera's Home Remedies, it read. The love spell kit was but one of many such DIY witchy items offered for sale off the main page.

The order form included an extensive survey about your intended love object and your interactions with them, thus far; it was quite lengthy and exhaustive! Deborah sighed with relief when she finally reached the payment screen.

Finally, she came to a page displaying a certificate you could fill in with your name and your love interest's name, the date, and the date by which you wanted to consummate the relationship. The site directed her to fill out this form, print it, and keep it nearby at all times, while awaiting the shipment of her spell kit. They also said she'd receive an important email confirmation with further instructions. She snapped a screenshot of the certificate and emailed it to herself.

Deborah stood and stretched a moment, while stealthily peering at her coworkers. No one seemed to be watching her.

She quickly logged into her personal email on her work computer and printed out a copy of the certificate, planning to sneak in and out of the account in a flash, before anyone became the wiser.

A new piece of mail blinked into existence, though, above the one she'd just sent herself, from none other than Madam Vysmera, herself! It read as follows:

Dearest Deborah,

Stephen and I are the closest of friends. He's told me all about your unfortunate infatuation. I offered my services, but he declined every time; nonetheless, I knew you'd jump at the chance to hook him for good, so I sent that little offer your way.

The questionnaire you filled out implicates you in ongoing workplace sexual harassment, both in fostering a hostile work environment and continuing to make unwanted advances, no matter how many times he ignored you.

Oh, the magic of the internet! Does anyone even need real witchcraft anymore?

You have until the end of the day to put in your notice, or I'm forwarding everything to Human Resources.

Blessed Be,

Madam Vysmera