The knock on the door rustled me out of a nap gone wrong. Imagine my surprise in my state of grog when I found this creature at the door. I prayed it was a nightmare from which I’d awake, but no such luck. This vision was no leftover from the REM state.
When this … thing showed up, my first thought was: Great! Another loser who expects a matchmaking miracle. My wrong. This was a different unwelcome guest commonly known as a process server.
She handed me this:
I’m sued for malpractice.
This is the night that matchmaking went wrong.
(Sung to the tune of “O Holy Night.”)
Apparently they created a new tort, Matchmaking Malpractice, just for me. The complaint cites allegations of fraud, negligence, infliction of emotional distress, and other ridiculous ingratitude for my services.
Should I fight it? Hide out and take that sabbatical?
Dear Readers, does anyone have a job more thankless?