Single Girl looking for: Full-Time Opportunity Only.Please do not contact me regarding temporary, occasional, seasonal, or part-time employment.
Throughout my online dating career I maintained hope in finding a beautiful, funny, kind and compassionate guy with a zest for life that, at the very, least rivaled mine. However, a far more logical and rational use of reading profile after profile, has surfaced. I’m switching careers from professional dater to writer. Keep an eye out for my first book:
“Girl, You In A Heap O’Trouble Looking For A Man At Your Age.”
Like the buffet, we look at all the options tempting our taste buds and put several on our plate. After all, we have the liberty to toss out anything we don’t like without penalty or concern . It’s as simple as going back through the line and making a few new selections. There are so many other things that look absolutely dee-lish. The buffet – so convenient and yet in the end it’s just reheated food that is terrible.
Frankly, I’m sick of the process. I want to bump into a guy like I did in the “old days.” You know, where he would catch my eye or I, his. We both did the “snapback,” checking out how it all looked from behind. I took small carefully calculated steps to prevent scaring him off. It was like luring a deer out of the field, hoping to get it to ear an apple out of my hand. Patience and endurance were critical skills.
I didn’t mind taking this time. In fact, I thought the entire process was thrilling. I felt like a super sleuth carrying out an important covert operation. My best observational skills were employed before I’d go in for the kill. A small bit of harmless stalking was required. After all, I needed to find out if there were active brain cells under that gorgeous mop of hair.
A plan was created. I began finding ways to bump into this hot, new interest of mine. A simple rerouting of my path around the building increased my likelihood of running into him. My mind created unnecessary or invalid excuses to pass by his office, classroom, or work area. I began to track his comings, goings and routines. It wasn’t by chance that I stopped to get coffee at the same time he did. Of course, this had to appear as if my run-in was purely a coincidence. The last thing I wanted was to appear forward, aggressive or down right crazy. Which, by the way, was most likely the case because all my mind could do was plot my next stalking event.
Whoever created the water cooler, “thank you!” Water cooler talk was my first brilliant tactic. A simple exchange of, “Hi” or some other small greeting. A smile flashed and my first step toward marriage was made. I stifled my enthusiasm so not to come across too desperate.
The next day, I might add a comment about the weather or sports; A man’s 2 favorite topics. After a few run-in’s, the simple greetings turned into brief conversations. Great information would be gathered during these moments, such as what he did the past weekend. BINGO, I now knew where he hung out. Suddenly, I started hanging out there, too. It was exciting and anticipation was built piece by tiny piece. A perfectly implemented plan to catch a promising dare.
This natural stalking process didn’t require me to sit at a dinner table while being drilled with a thousand personal questions ensuring I would never measure up. Now-a-days the assessment is an interrogation. During first dates, both parties are assessed for injury that now makes them damaged goods. More often than not, both leave with some level of disappointment. The selection doesn’t taste so good after all.
Oh well, back to the buffet line.
Why is it, more often than not, a man’s dating profile includes images of him proudly holding up a fish? Is it because he wants us to believe we will never go hungry if we chose him? Are we to be impressed by his primal hunting instincts and deft bate and hook skills? Should we to be lured by his cleverness in tricking an animal with the IQ of Dory? News Flash: You guys are marketing to the wrong audience; You’re using the wrong bait. We don’t want to see your fish. A fish doesn’t make you “hot” it makes you “smelly.” You’re not Brad Pitt in A River Runs Through It; You are Joe Pesci in Gone Fishin’. My response to the guy with the catfish:
Hey, nice fish but I saw a dating profile photo of this guy holding up a gift certificate to Mama’s Fish House in Maui and I’m hoping to hook him. If he gets away, I’m considering this other guy I ran into at the check-out line in the grocery store. Can you believe this man single handedly found the crab legs, asparagus and cheetos? He’s a keeper. I’m going to marry his ass!