I believe I’m experiencing the first signs of dating fatigue, readers. You’re sure to sympathize with my exhaustion. After all, you’ve been with me throughout this cringe-worthy rollercoaster all along. I’ve recently come across a few people who think I’m trumping up these de-blog-cles for the entertainment value. All I can say is… I WISH that were true!
Taking some time away from the dating site got me thinking about strategy and whether or not I’ve subscribed to the correct one.
There are generally two schools of thought when it comes to finding someone: The passive “When You Least Expect It” crew, versus the more active “Out There” group.
Have you thrown up your hands, tossed in the towel, and/or purchased feline companionship? GOOD! Disciples of the “unexpected” and “come what may” will tell you that you’ve finally reached the promise land. They believe you cannot find what you’re supposed to have until you’ve completely given up.
If those relationships found on the brink of hopelessness don’t work out however, one may turn to the latter approach.
Shrinks, obsessive beautification rituals, dating sites and yes---blogs, are all a part of being “Out There.” “Out There” is a lifestyle, an attitude, a projection. To be “Out There” you must send the right vibe. You must look people in the eye. You must smile and giggle at jokes. You must strive to be a better person. You must eat delicately, and force yourself out even when you’d prefer to be in. In short, you must be on at all times.
Besides the weariness, there is another negative side-effect of this method: You inadvertently intrigue the wrong men!
Recall if you will, Mr. Marriage. Unfortunately, I must report a similar sorry saga.
This past Tuesday, I was to perform at a charity event for which my boss volunteered me. It was a wonderful evening, complete with cocktails, hor dourves, and 500 of Westchester’s most successful business people. Prior to show time, my employer invited me to converse with him and a few of our clients. Of course, it would only be moments until the least attractive, most inappropriate man was able to hone in on my coordinates.
“My goodness, who is this?” he broke in.
“This is my assistant, Alex” bragged my boss. “She’ll be singing for us later. And don’t let the size fool you!”
“Yeah with me either” said the inappropriate man. Once I realized this was an anatomical size joke, I blushed with embarrassment. “Do you think you can dedicate your most intimate love song to me?” he asked, his wedding ring glistening in the party light.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to hurt the other gentlemen’s feelings” I replied.
Nervous laughter suddenly erupted from the people around us.
“You are adorable!” the inappropriate man retorted.
“Aw, thanks” I said politely but blatantly unimpressed. “If you’ll excuse me.”
I retreated to the ladies room in an attempt to avoid saying something snippy in front of my boss. Just when I thought I provided exactly the right hint, it was time to go on. The inappropriate [ignorant as the day is long] man made his way to the front of the crowd, clapping, dancing and cheering along. Wow, thought Nice Alex, How am I gonna handle this one?!
Once off stage, the inappropriate man asked for my information… Ya know, to hire me for some private parties. I told him that I was in a rush to make another engagement but that he was welcome to request a business card from my boss if he needed to get in touch.
Like clockwork, an e-mail awaited me when I arrived at work the next day; one that emphasized my talent and beauty. He concluded with the hope that he’d see me at another event ---or---maybe even a bar downtown.
It’s moments like these that make me want to jump ship, readers. Perhaps I should give up---because it seems that even if you find someone to marry, you’ll have to wonder if he's hitting on other people’s assistants at cocktail parties.
But will giving up eventually lead me to the proverbial promise land as so many believe, or will it simply mean settling for a singular existence?
What do you believe?