It finally happened. Something I have often dreaded as a single woman. Something I had only heard of but had not experienced firsthand. This weekend, I had the date from hell. What I thought would be simply casual dining and getting to know someone better, turned into something from a “National Lampoon’s” movie. Each step through the ordeal, I kept waiting for Ashton Kutcher to pop out of nowhere telling me I had just been “punked”. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. And oh, how I wished it had. It would’ve at least provided a logical explanation for the whole situation, which began with a phone call at approximately 6:20 pm on Sunday evening and ended, thankfully at around10:00 pm. What makes this even worse is that the poor man didn’t have a clue of how terrible the date was. He actually thought I’d be interested in seeing him again. By 8 pm, I had already decided that was not going to happen. By 8:30 pm, I was thinking I should’ve stayed home and ate the home baked chocolate cupcakes I had made earlier instead. He was a fix-a-man; someone that had way too many issues at his age, for me to even consider dating him. Primarily since the purpose of me dating is to meet someone I can eventually marry. As I sucked down my grand patron margarita with vigor, I thought, “this is some bull****. Is this what the dating pool has been reduced to? Is this why I’m single at 36? Is this all that’s left of the men for me to choose from?”
If the evening hadn’t been so ridiculously absurd that it made me laugh, I think I would’ve cried. Especially since there is a man in my world that I truly adore, and I would much rather be with, that just doesn’t view a committed relationship as a possibility in his life right now. As a result, I still “casually date” in order to have brief companionship more often than once a month. As I listened to this man tell me about his family, his dog, and his problems, I thought about my sister friends that are blessed to be in a relationship and all the women who complain about minor things in their relationships and marriages. They have no idea how good they have it. I want someone to wear his shoes in the house, take up too much room in the bed, and leave dishes in the sink overnight. I pray for someone that I have things in common with, someone I can improve my golf handicap with, someone I can have intelligent conversation with, someone I can go on vacations with. I long for someone that will be happy to see me, hug me and kiss me; someone who wants to do those things everyday for the rest of his life. But that’s not what I have. So I’m left to muddle through this very shallow, disappointing dating pool as a single woman for Lord knows how long. I have one online profile where the men are only 80% matches (translation – 50%) and I’ve even sent in an application for assistance from the Millionaire Matchmaker, Patti Stanger herself. I have my personal goal of being married by age 40. That looks so impossible from where I sit today, especially after this weekend.
As usual, I will make lemons out of lemonade. This recent misadventure in dating will be added to my upcoming novel “He’s A Problem” that I plan to release the summer of 2011. So all of you will have the chance to laugh with me and some of you will surely relate to me. Real life is often stranger than fiction and this particular date was such a hot mess that I couldn’t make it up if I had wanted to.
To the married women – Please take the time to count your blessings. If your spouse is not abusive, addicted or have a criminal record, please appreciate him for all of who he is, including his faults. You are with him, hopefully, because you are equally yoked with him. Being single in your thirties is hard and it only gets harder the older you become. Don’t waste time finding fault in the marriage you are blessed to have when there are women like me who don’t get a chance at love.