The Set Up

I’ve never been on a blind date, never really even been set up.  The closest I came was after college when a friend said she’s run into an old school friend and thought he’d be perfect for me, so the three of us watched a movie or something.  I can’t remember what it was, but at some point in the evening he did something that made it clear to me and her that he wasn’t right for me and we shared a look over his head and that was the end of that.  I’m not counting the time the guy I was seeing invited me over to his place to have sex with him and his friend, as that was more laziness than matchmaking.  I’m not sure what was less appealing about the proposition, the fact that the friend knew me and wasn’t speaking to me at the time (though this is apparently not an impediment to having sex with someone, as far as guys are concerned) or that the venue would be a small studio apartment with dirty carpet and only a couch for furniture.

No one ever says to me, “I know the perfect guy for you,” or even, “I know someone you might like.”  I’m not an ogre and I save my castrating bitch act for special occasions, so I’m not sure why people don’t feel the need to pair me off.  Soon after they were married, my cousin’s wife had matchmaking fever, but she proclaimed that none of their friends were smart enough for me.  Maybe that’s the problem, because I dated a guy without a bed or a car, so clearly my standards aren’t the highest.  He was smart, though.

One office I worked at made a project of getting dates for our 40 year old probable virgin (he even had a collection of Star Trek models in his living room).  I imagine they would have enjoyed making me such a project, so I kept my mouth tightly shut about my private life.  I didn’t want it on the agenda for the weekly department meeting.  I would have been after the discussion of Star Trek’s love life, and, this being LA, the subject of my “fuckability” would have been a hot topic.  Then would have come the subject of my having cats, as if somehow having pets that you don’t have to rush home and walk in the morning is a man repellent.  I would rather have attended the meetings naked.

I’ve heard more internet dating horror stories than successes, so that’s out.  I’m fine with going to bars, but I lost my bar crawling friend when she moved across town a couple years ago.  Although, she was the one usually going home with someone so I think I was her wingman.  Did get to hear some great stories at least.  Once had a fascinating conversation about pipe fitting with the friend of a guy she was practically having sex with in the booth next to us.  I’m not a believer in having to have a designated fat friend in your group, or whatever the latest girl rules are, but you do have to choose your bar hopping partner wisely.  There will be lots of down time, so you want someone who can keep you entertained with funny stories or sharp comments (more the latter, really).  Someone who will save you when you can’t manage to throw back something you’ve caught, and someone who won’t poach your catch.

I’ve asked my very positive, social butterfly friend to keep an eye out for me, so we’ll see how that goes.  I fear a repeat of college, though, when guys at parties would ask me my major, and when I replied with the name of the honors program I was in, would say, “Oh, so you’re really smart,” and break the land speed record getting away from me.

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February 22, 2010. Tags: . Life, the universe, and whatnot.

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