It’s been nine years since I last dated, and yet, these days I feel like I’m back in the singles' lane.
You see, lately I’ve been on the lookout for Mr. Right. Mr. Right Job, that is. When I sought Mr. Right, I kissed a lot of toads to find my prince. Let’s just say I’m thorough and I persevere through the muckiest of swamps. If only someone had said to look under the nearest clover patch serving Guinness! I could’ve saved myself a whole lotta warts.
Things can get pretty personal when you search for any one thing with the word right in its title. Painfully so, remnants of my single days now haunt my search for Mr. Right Job…
Our introduction took us well into and over lunch hour. Instantly, I'm happy with CouldBeLove Inc. It was perfect; not too demanding, close to home and yet, there was the money. After a tour, I was asked if I could see myself there. My knees weakened. We ended with teases of another meeting. We met again; I was introduced to others. After a month of courting, CouldBeLove, Inc, broke the news. There had been another. The decision was hard, but they could love only one. It was not me.
My ego lightly bruised, I bounced back when a friend fixed me up.
Dot.Com reminds me of long lost relationships in San Francisco. High flying, fancy décor, hip and young, this prospect had the eye and the money for me. Upon our first meeting, I was lured by tales of fun times and friends. I was feeling frisky.
I emailed after our first meeting, yet didn’t hear back. I called and was told Dot.Com would get back to me. Eventually, we met for another adrenal rush. I told all my friends about Dot.Com and our future to be. I gushed.
Another week and no call. Another week passed and I called, desperate to see Dot.Com. Another message left and then the email. Dot.Com had decided to hold off our engagement and maybe, well maybe in the New Year…
I had been played; I was deflated and humiliated.
After two months of dating gone nowhere, Christmas set in as it does on the single life. Heavy, dim and empty of all joy. There I was
The usual New Year extravaganza approached as did the usual mistrust of the hype. I awoke amid resolutions and fresh snow. Donning new motivation and drive, I networked untouched crowds, polished my goods and awaited my suitors like a newly-tuned siren.
Within a week I had seven calls and three dates set. My mojo returneth.
Anxious to get back in the game, I met with WorthTheDistance. It was a long distance relationship, but after sweet promises—pension, health and money—my heart quickened. WorthTheDistance spoke of an early morning schedule—a sure fire way to my early-bird happiness.
WorthTheDistance has professed love with me and, sadly, another lover, closer in location. And yet, they find me more compatible. WorthTheDistance would think it over and call me.
On this date, it felt good to meet on the basis of just ‘cause. Just ‘cause I was asked. Just ‘cause it’s important to know what’s out there. Just ‘cause I knew I could impress. Just ‘cause more experience in dating could help. This date could end up being Mr. RightJobNow. The money is ok and the location is fine. If I consider this relationship, it would probably not be my last.
My friend who introduced me to Mr. RightJobNow told me I’m really, really liked. Mr. RightJobNow should be calling me back.
I always liked bald men. So when I saw this classified, it boasts of traditional values and wholesome returns. I could live with that. I agreed to meet OlderButSecure. It was an instant match. My professionalism and quick step was appreciated and I, in turn, responded well to the orderly and secure environment. No surprises and certainly no hidden agendas.
About the same time OlderButSecure was arranging my future meeting with his
But OlderButSecure was close to home and it was a relationship that could live up to its name.
Besides, after CouldBeLove, Inc., and Dot.Com, my heart could take only so much wrangling. I accepted a second date for next week.
My mind was swimming with eternal possibilities one day, when out of the corner of my eye, I caught a friendly cute number oh-so-close to home. I had heard of Love&Company long ago from another girlfriend. She had ooo’ed and aaah’ed at what it had to offer. Then as if on cueue, my neighbor introduced us. After a shy first phone call, Love&Company expressed real interest in me, but admitting excessive commitments, Love&Company asked me to call back in a week. Great. (sarcasm). Another one I’d have to chase for attention.
I was exhausted, but not forgetful. It was now three weeks into the new year and that bad boy Dot.Com was on my mind. Should I call? Would I look desperate?
As I reached for my cell phone, in a moment of weakness charading as confidence, there sat a text message blinking brightly.
Hi Sherry. This is CouldBeLove,Inc. Can I call you sometime?
OMG! Now this looks like the dating game, feels like the dating game, but really, could this be a booty call in The Great Job Search of ’08?
To Be Continued…