Where oh where have the sweet, lovely, and (most importantly) single guys gone to?
Oh, I know you're out there.
Somewhere.
Maybe I passed you while you were leaving your hot sweaty DNA behind after bench pressing your body weight at Planet Fitness. Well, probably not. But perhaps it was you with the amazing doe eyes who brushed up against my arm while reaching for that last perfectly ripe avocado at Shaw's. How about you, Hardhat? Driving that dozer through the miles of construction horror I pass four times a day on my maddening commute? Or you in the sun-faded Sox hat on the Third base line standing room section the day Moose got his 20th season win for the God-awful Yankees at Fenway?
Anyone?
Beuller?
Anyone?
Anyone care to share this unanticipated fall from grace with me?
I'm thinking that finding a sincere, interesting and (hell yes I'm going to say it) attractive person to get out and about with feels like the most daunting of challenges these days. Not that I don't love myself a challenge. A "fix-er-up-er". A full-on project in need of duct tape, power tools and a boatload of patience.
I am really trying, however, to avoid needing an index to effectively maneuver my next relationship.
For now, I'm trying the dating thing. It's like a big crash course in finding your true self underneath heaps of phobia, drenched in a bitter cold sweat. It is completely terrifying. And a little exciting. I find it to be somewhat manageable when tempered with vodka gimlets...rocks...extra squeeze of fresh lime.
I'm looking for you. The guy with the doe eyes that cause immediate distraction. The single guy who is adorable and amusing. I will not-so-patiently fumble through this dating thing and quite possibly a cask-load of gimlets.
And maybe with a little luck I'll find you.
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