Since Valentine’s Day is lurking around the corner, I thought I would do a post this week about love and dating, two subjects that I know nothing about. So you might want to read this with a grain of salt – or with a glass of wine, like me.
Ah, love. Step on your toes, kick you in the stomach and punch you in the face sweet love. Actually, let me start off by saying that being in love isn’t too terrible, in fact, sometimes it can be kind of nice. The problem is, you have to go through the trials and tribulations of dating in order to get there. Dating, in my experience, is horrible. We don’t mesh well together. Kind of like oil and vinegar or pizza and dieting.
Case in point: I once got so frustrated with the dating scene that one night when I was out to dinner with friends, I had an epiphany and decided that I had been going about dating all wrong. I was from a small town, and I liked country music, so who was I kidding, I should be dating…a cowboy. A REAL cowboy, like a guy that worked the land and hauled hay in his truck. We’d had just enough wine that this was a brilliant idea, so I signed myself up right then and there for something called countrymatch.com. That’s the problem with smart phones, it is possible to have too much access to the internet. I entered in all my information and came up with some horrifically embarrassing screen name that I thankfully blocked from my memory, and sat back and waited for George Strait to come riding in on his big horse with his cowboy boots and Stetson hat and sweep me away from my humdrum city life.
Pretty soon thereafter, I realized that although the dating site gave the illusion of only allowing your profile to be seen by very specific areas of eligible men, once you signed up, you were thrown in the pot with everyone else. Most the men contacting me had profiles that alluded to death metal, video games, multiple children and arrest records. BUT, despite the odds, I actually started talking to a guy who seemed pretty normal, and considered himself a cowboy. Turned out his parents even had a place up on the lake about an hour outside of my town. Lake house = SCORE. We both had busy schedules, but we continued to communicate, first by email, then by texting and calling, and then finally he told me he was going to be at his parents lake house over the weekend, and he wanted to drive into town to take me to dinner. We agreed to meet at a local restaurant (dating tip – NEVER let a stranger pick you up from your home on a blind or online date, stranger danger is real ya’ll), and when we got there I was starving, so I had a piece of bread – maybe two, I wasn’t counting – before we got our meals. We were hitting it off and seemed to have a pretty good connection, but then about thirty minutes into the meal he starts discussing his workouts (of which there were many) and his diet. I personally refrain from these topics when dining, but I thought, okay, he’s cute, let’s see where he’s headed. Apparently, as I quickly discovered, the eating of the bread was his “that’s a deal breaker, ladies” and he couldn’t let it slide. He was “paleo” before paleo was a thing. He also told me about a website he went to every day that had great eating and workout tips, and he thought I would like it.
The next day I received an email from him with the website and nothing else. That was the last time I heard from him. The funny thing is, if I had to do it again, I’d still eat the bread.
Next time I’ll tell you guys about the church singles group I attended that was all married couples and a leader who told us that the Lord had cured him of his genital herpes.by