Public outcry for my next steps in the on-going Matt saga has been overwhelming – overwhelming and frankly really weird.

I’d like to thank everyone for their critical analysis of what’s really going on with Anna. If the crisis of my laundry love were, instead, the situation in the Middle East, I believe it would be solved. Too bad.

The following recommendations come from a college friend, a high school friend, a perfect stranger, and my Mom. Sources remain anonymous to protect the person who suggested option number 3.

1. The Pump Fake

It has been suggested that Anna is an evil mastermind who tells select, female customers about a mythical Matt so they too will obsessively clean their clothes in hopes of meeting this nicest guy. This conpsiracy theorist went so far as to suggest that Anna tells us hopeless women that “Matt” comes at different times of day – times of day when her business is typically slow…

I mean – wow – but okay.

Matlock suggests I disappear from Anna’s for two weeks then go back and tell her all about the nicest guy I’ve met through my new drycleaner. Game – set – match.

The move is based on the premise that Anna is, in addition to being an evil mastermind, a fiercely competative business-woman — a valid and clever assumption based on the fact that she named her business Best Dry Cleaners (someone’s reading carefully…). But Anna’s whole issue with me is that she believes I have a secret boyfriend I’m not telling her about and therefore refuses to set me up w/ Matt because she’s afraid I’ll hurt him (wack, I know). So if I go in and actually tell her I have a new guy it’s all over for me. Also I cannot risk her spitting on my clothes.

2. The Purge Approach

Anna is, above all, a woman. Perhaps, suggested Nancy Drew, the best tactic is to appeal to her womanly side. Go in there and cry my eyes out.

“Anna – I’m just so miserable. It’s been so long since I’ve really experienced the comforts of a man. You know how lonely it can be in this dreary city. You know how hard it is out there for us working girls. I just feel like if I don’t meet a nicest guy soon I’ll resort to desperate measures.”

I’ve experienced success with this approach in the “please don’t­ write me a ticket officer!” And “professor, I’m just too­ sick to take this final” arenas. But do I really want to cry my way into a relationship? No, not again.

3. The Big, Strange Lie
“I know!” said one recent reader “you go in there and say – ‘Anna! You won’t believe this! I met Matt!! We bumped into each other and somehow got to talking about cleaning our clothes and where we go and I figured out he was Matt and now we’re friends and he asked me to pick up his laundry! Isn’t that wild?! Soooo – I’d like his laundry please.’

This way,” Inspector Gadget concluded, “you can get the laundry, have his phone number, call him and deliver him his stuff!!”

Hhhmmm. Okay. Let’s play this one out.

Anna is dumb enough to believe that I have met Matt and established the kind of comfort where he’s asked me to pick up his personal items. Fine. I get his things and therefore have his number. I call that number and say what exactly?

“Hi – my name is Jessie – ca –sorry — Jessica. I’m not sure if you’ve heard about me, but we both go to Anna for our laundering, and she accidentally gave me your three, wool man suits which I accidentally paid $40 for. We should get together for a drink or something so I can give them to you. Oh, and also – I told her that I know you because – well – I don’t have a good reason – so next time you go in there could you please just play along? Thanks.”

4. The voice of reason

“Wash your own fucking clothes at the laundromat and buy shit that doesn’t need to be dry-cleaned.”

Avoid distracting neighborhood escapism and wear clothes made in wrinkle-free cotton?!

I’d sooner move out of Manhattan all together.

Remain tuned…