On the dating- go- round
Many singles meet their dates on the Internet. I prefer to meetmenon the sidewalk. Parking lots, bleachers, In- N- Outs or comedy clubswork too. Maybe I’ve read toomuchmetaphysics orwatched toomuchOWN, but I believe that I can manifest the right mate by becoming completely clear about the person I ammeant to be and themanwhoshould becomemy mate.
So, one and a half years after separating frommyhusband of17 years and the father ofmy two kids, Imade a list of the qualities I desired in aman— passionate about hiswork, volunteer in the community, a father or stepfather, athletic, funny, does not use drugs or drink excessively, and does not smoke.
Amonth later, I foundmyself in an Orange County high school parking lot cleaning outmy car as I waited formy son’s baseball game to begin. Toting a plastic bag full of emptywater bottles, snackwrappers, apple cores and crumpled homework, I asked amanhosting an earthquake preparedness event where I could find a trash can. By the first pitch of the game, he had myphone number.
Mark met every qualification on mylist. Adivorced dad, hewas close to his twentysomething daughter, he loved his job, hewas an integral part of his community and the school district for which he worked, he had played high school sports, and hewas passionate about his health.
Onour fourth date, lunch, he toldmean anecdote about a family memberthatwould have enraged most people I know. Mark simply shrugged his shoulders with acceptance and askedmehowmy daughter’s friend liked the fake fish tank he had given her. Mark and I hadgone toaNewYear’sEveparty that included awhite elephant exchange. Whenmy10-year- old daughter’s friend had coveted the giftmydaughter had ended up with, he had tracked downanother one and bought it for her.
I returned tomyoffice thinking, what a classy gentleman. I found Mark attractive, and I badly wanted tomake himmyboyfriend, but therewas no spark.
Fivemonths aftermeeting Mark, I met “Randy” in a different parking lot. He had the body of a skier and the voice of a rock star. His 6- foot- tall bodywas lithe and his hazel eyes sparkled. Mylist went out the window. We fell into conversation, and he impressed mewith his knowledge ofmusic education. For a month, we spoke on the phone several nights aweek. Iwasn’t sure ifwewere simply becoming friends until he sentme this text, “I must confess that since the first timewemet, I have had a strange attraction for you that I amalmost afraid to pursue. I said almost.”
Threemonths after our parking lotmeeting, we had a midnight date. I have never had a better time.
Still, wewere not a perfect fit, and after a fewmonths, Randy moved 80 miles away— another time zone in Southern California traffic. Iwouldn’t hear fromhim for days at a time. Instead of changing mystatus onFacebook to single, I simply let the universe knowthat I was available.
Ona rare night out to see a friend perform stand- up at Bogey’s in Redondo Beach, I fell into conversationwith Ian, a fellowformer NewYorker. Hewalkedmetomy car, and I couldn’t say no to an invitation towalk on the Hermosa BeachStrand and have dinner at theSpot.
In the threeweeks before I had aSaturday evening free, I came to enjoy chattingwith Ian; it took the sting out ofmy stop- and- go commute on the 405. Aformer teacher, Ian askedme lots of questions aboutmynovel and other creative pursuits. His positivitymademe realize howcritical ofmeRandy had been, and howeasily pheromones trickedmeinto overlooking his negativity.
Oneday I had an epiphany— the chemistry I feltwithRandy might always be off the charts, but so might his unpredictable behavior. Mybody saidmore, but I forced myself to step back and evaluate. Since beginning our affair, my writing had stalled, Iwas more irritable and absent- minded, and I had stopped performing stand- up.
I debated whether I could get past Ian’s being14 yearsmy junior. Heeventuallymoved away.
Meanwhile, I headed back to NewYork at the end of 2014 for a Christmas vacation, with tentative plans tomeet a high school friend. I had always foundDavid attractive, kind, dryly humorous and slightly silly. I knewhewasn’t married but had no idea whether he had a girlfriend.
We hiked the grounds of the Rockefeller estate, catching up. By the time he kissedme, it felt exciting and familiar at the same time. “I’m gladwe got that out of the way,” he quipped.
Our relationship did notmake it through thesummer. Itwas such a positive experience, though, that as far as the universe is concerned I can only say, “Thank you. Almost perfect.”
Sometime stand- up comic Sasha Kildare’s first novel, “Dream Walking,” was recently published. She blogs about health and lifestyles at sashakildare . wordpress. com.