I'm looking for the 100 percent perfect girl.

I had her once but she's gone. Now, ever since I saw the author, Haruki Murakami, reading his short story "On Seeing The 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning" at the university recently, I've been on the lookout again. The gist of the story is that if you think you've found your 100 percent perfect girl, you should tell her right away because you won't get a second chance. It's a sad story but it has a good moral.

I thought I saw the 100 percent perfect girl in front of me in the line at the post office the other day. The reason I didn't tell her that she was 100 percent perfect was because saying such a thing to a strange woman in a public place these days can get you slapped or sued, or both, and because I'm not the kind of person who goes around saying anything to beautiful women I don't know, even though I remembered the moral of Murakami's story.

Still, she looked good.

She had skin the color of cocoa butter and long black hair with stylish blond streaks that ended in big curls halfway down her back. She had immaculately pressed and fitted pants that emphasized her long legs and a nearly perfect posterior. She had a simple but expensive knit top, a designer's purse, and shoes to match. When she turned to look at the clock, I could see big, brown, expressive eyes that were full of humor and compassion. When she turned a little more, I could see ... well, I'm not supposed to admit where I was looking. When her cell phone rang, she answered demurely, in a way not to bother others in line or allow an eavesdropping journalist standing next to her to hear what was being said.

Perfect, I thought. Definitely out of my league, but perfect.

But when she turned just a little more, I could see that she had a nameplate identifying herself as a Realtor. She wasn't the 100 percent perfect girl after all. Well, at least she wasn't my 100 percent perfect girl.

I don't mean to demean an entire profession full of hard-working, honest professionals based upon a few experiences I've had with some less-than-stellar representatives of the industry, but there are some memories you just can't let go. We all have our little biases, and that's one of mine. So sue me.

Besides, this woman probably already had somebody who was her 100 percent perfect guy, and I'm quite sure it wasn't me. When the line moved and we both got up to the counter, I forgot all about her. I didn't see her again, although I did peek into the real-estate office next to the post office as I walked by.

Anyway, I'm not really looking for a 100 percent perfect girl. It's just something to think about and pass the time in line at the post office.

I had my 100 percent perfect girl for 29 years, and now that she's gone, I'm quite sure you don't get a second chance. It's a sad story but it has a good moral.

Reach Mike Leidemann at mleidemann@honoluluadvertiser.com.