Maisie hung up the phone. Talia was going to bed, but Maisie wasn't tired. She scrolled through the comments on the page.
"My son is a perfect gentleman - he can be your Mr. Darcy!"
"My brother's middle name is Darcy, does that count?"
"I'd love to take you out, if you don't mind the last name Smith."
Most of them were benign, a few were funny, but then she came across, "What the fuck is wrong with you? Mr. Darcy is FICTIONAL! No wonder your fucking single, your crazy!"
Wow, she thought. Someone peed in this guy's cornflakes this morning, and apparently he missed the lesson in middle school on the difference between "your" and "you're".
She was ready to let it roll off her back, when she saw another in a similar vein. "you're ugly as fuck why would any man want to date you you fate bitch."
She guess the "fate" was a typo, and the person had intended to call her fat. A lump formed in her throat. Being called "fat" she could handle. Hell, even being called "ugly" wasn't that bad. She had a mirror, she knew what she looked like and she was fine with her visage. But why would a perfect stranger on the internet call her a "bitch"?
Maisie knew about internet trolls. Who didn't? She just never thought she'd have them.
She deleted the offensive posts and continued scrolling through, liking some of the comments, and responding to others, all while making notes of men who seemed like they might have potential. After an hour, she yawned. Dashwood meowed from her bedroom. Quickly, she typed out an email to Talia with the names of people she wanted background information on, then shut down her computer. It had been a long weekend, and she had a feeling the craziness was just getting started.