Back to the Future

OK, starting last fall I swore off online dating and decided I would rely on the tried-and-true barfly method of meeting men. The results have been mixed, as have been the drinks. 10 pounds and cirrhosis of the liver later, I am back in the saddle (so to speak) and trolling bulletin boards and dating websites again.

Much like a fisherman lives for that tug on the line, I "caught" two prospects last week and shockingly had both ask me out to dinner after an initial conversation. Neither seemed psychotic nor needy (apologies to "Cowboy", the third one who also asked me out who didn't pass this criteria) so I set a time and date to meet up with each.

Bachelor #1 suggested a restaurant mid-way between us that ended up being closed on Mondays. We talked over the weekend and decided we would instead meet at a restaurant that was actually OPEN on the day we wanted to meet up. I never heard from him again so I went to a Pilates class instead Monday night. 25 Downward dogs, 10 planks and 15 triceps push-ups later, I checked my cell phone to discover he is sitting in the darkened parking lot of the closed restaurant, calling me to ask me where I am.

He calls 3 times, not leaving his phone number in any of his messages. I call the restaurant but no one answers because (yes) it is closed. So the IQ section of the test was not passed - but subsequent groveling and apologies by email since then may make me reconsider depending on how it goes with Bachelor #2.

#2 unfortunately lives 90 miles away - we were to meet up tonight but a pesky ice storm made me cancel. A year ago I drove through a blizzard to meet with someone who also lived in the hinterlands - refer to earlier post for details. And I don't want to risk my 1998 Subaru for what is at best a 50/50 proposition.

Tomorrow night is Local Yokel night at the ski area where I work. Boston's Tip O'Neill once claimed all politics is local -- if he were single and alive today, he might say the same thing about finding a date.