Dating Entendre

“I don’t want him to think I’m desperate.” I thought to myself, as I pondered when to return a call to a man. He’d called just an hour ago and I thought by returning it so soon, I’d appear needy.

It’s always like this, you know. You’re out there meeting people all the time. Eventually one of them tells you about a potential opportunity to meet what might just turn out to be “the one”. Then you worry and fret about how to behave and pretty much become a stranger to yourself in your mad quest for the perfect fit.

For your first meeting, you’re dressed to the nines. You chatter about your background and what you’re looking for. Because you’re so nervous (and, let’s face it, desperate), you toss in a few lies like, “Absolutely, I’m great at that” when, in fact, you’ve never even heard of whatever “that” is. You’ll panic hoping he doesn’t ask you more about “that”. Relieved when he doesn’t, you resign to Google “that” when you get home so you can learn more about it.

When you part ways after that first meeting, you thank him too many times and decide whether or not this could be the one.

Let’s face it, you’re not seeing just one. You’re meeting as many as you can. You go a few rounds of meetings with the potentials. You discard some because they say something that makes you want to run away screaming. You discard others because of ugly shoes or a strange odor. You meet some two or three times and are convinced you’ve found “the one” only to learn later that what should have been your position was filled with someone “more qualified”. You want to call and ask, “Why didn’t you pick me?! What’s wrong with me?!” But don’t.

Eventually you find one you like (and who likes you) so you discard all other offers and decide to be exclusive. And it’s great. You’re having lots of fun. You’re learning new things. Everything is fabulous and just as you think things couldn’t get any better, you find out something unsettling about the arrangement. Like there’s financial trouble or someone told someone something and you’re going to be dropped like a fiery potato. Soon everything they do bothers you like the way someone holds his fork or keeps using phrases like “be that as it may”.

So you start pounding the pavement again – preferably while you still have one in the hopper. You tell everyone you know and everyone you meet that you’re looking. You start browsing the want ads “just for fun”.

When you finally commit to jump ship, you just restart the cycle of nervousness, lies, and rejection.

Now reread everything you’ve read up to this point as if I were talking about looking for the perfect job.

Scary, isn’t it? I guess the only difference between finding “the one” job and finding “the one” mate is the sex.