Dating is brutal. Finding that special someone who doesn’t drive you to commit an act that will grant you 25 to life in federal prison is a daunting task. I have had my fair share of losers and “did that really just happen?” moments but today is not about me; today is about one of my friends who just isn’t good at dating.
I have made it my duty (until I get bored and lose hope) to help her find the man of her dreams – pleasant, loving dreams, not homicidal ideations. Let us look at my friend, Andrea*. Andrea is smart, impossibly patient and kind has a great job and great style. So, why has she not found The One yet? I know why. She’s too darn picky. We all have friends who have dumped a perfectly decent partner for being too short, having terrible table manners or acting like a creepy player. All totally understandable in my book! However, Andrea takes pickiness to another level all together. On one promising date, suitor #1 took Andrea to a local bar for dinner and drinks. So far, so good. Upon meeting this man (I can’t remember his name; there have been SO MANY!) they order drinks and commence the small talk about weather and jobs that we all love oh so much. I know what you’re thinking: “still, so far so good. Where is she going with this story?”. Ok, here it is…Andrea decided to end the night early and ignore his request for a second date because he ordered white wine.
Pause for reaction.
I repeat: she deemed him unworthy of another date because he likes sweet wines better than dry (I hate to think what she might have done had he just ordered an iced tea)! Of course I tried to reason with her but to no avail. Not to worry she said, she had another date with a new man the following week she said. How exciting, maybe she realized the error of her ways we said!
All weekend I anxiously awaited our weekly Monday morning gossip session; I wanted all of the deets! The date went well- I asked her if I could be a bridesmaid. Too soon, too soon- Until she realized he had such a terrible flaw that she again decided not to pursue him. What was wrong with him you ask? Was he a troll? Did he show up naked? Was he another white wine drinker? No, no something much worse: he was wearing a brown leather bomber jacket. Ummm what? Yes, you read that right. Suitor #2 was wearing unacceptable outerwear and couldn’t possibly be a decent human being. Unsurprisingly, that was their first and last date. Another one bites the dust.
I could go on with more examples of her failed dates but this is a column, not a novel. Should I ever decide to author a book about my friends and their dating lives I’ll let you all know. For now though, my time is consumed with listening to Andrea’s “horrible” dates, offering advice and hoping that one day she’ll realize that jacket choice, beverage order, or middle name should not be considered deal breakers. Until my nagging and not so kind words of reality sink in we can all hope she meets a nice man who shuns coats and drinks dark beer. Good luck to her.
*names have not been changed. Andrea needs to know she needs serious help.