I guess it was two weeks ago I put my profiles back up.
I wouldn’t say I’m totally over everything that happened with Ten, or that I was in a great hurry to find someone new. It’s just that it took three months to find anyone I even wanted to go on a second date with. I figured I’d window shop while I figured out what I learned from dating Ten, and maybe I’d set up some coffee dates. Or maybe not.
Yeah, maybe not. Maybe not until June. Or 2021. Or who the fuck knows when I am going to be able to date again, right?
Because the fates are tricksters, I connected with a guy I would like to meet almost immediately. He’s an ex-New Yorker, a musician, a cook. Yes, Gramma, he’s Jewish, but Jewish like me. He has an apartment full of ukuleles. (Really!) He’s age appropriate and makes saucy art jokes. He’s unemployed, because nearly all restaurant workers are unemployed right now, but when we chatted the other night he was making ten pounds of carnitas which he had planned to share with his shut-in neighbors. I am not a carnivore, but I like that a guy with free time on his hands is making food for his neighbors. We talked about playing music and I told him about my guitar, it’s the same one Nick Drake played.
“No way,” he said. “I was just playing Pink Moon. Takes forever to retune for that song, but it’s worth it.”
We are, it seems, never meeting. Never.
I also connected with a photographer who was supposed to be doing an artist’s residency here on but is currently bunkered with his 80 year old mother in another state. I told him a little bit about my work and he stopped me to say, “Long shot, but do you know my friend…” and he named a guy I know.
“I’ve had soup dumplings with him and his wife and kids!”
I mean, what are the odds? We chatted for a long time, but because he’s not physcially here, plus, you know, The Corona, we are never meeting in person.
“Can you imagine?” he asked. “Anyone who’s dating right now is completely irresponsible.”
“Why are we doing this online dating thing, then?” I asked, curious about his reasons.
“I’m just looking for connections right now,” he said. “Nothing else is possible.”
I get it.
This second scenario has made me think I would consider being set up. Having someone in common acts like a safety net. Your common friend likes you both, so that’s a character endorsement that you don’t get when choosing random strangers and hitting “Add to cart.” It was nice to find that a friend knows and likes this particular guy, it encouraged me to be myself with him almost immediately. But you, reading this, with your single friend you want to set me up with? Not now. Because The Corona, right? Save it. Just save it.
Let’s summarize the story thus far.
Me: Okay, I’ve been separated for over a year, I feel good, finally. I would like to date, please.
Fates: Here is a guy you have blazing chemistry with.
Me: OMG, YES PLEASE.
Fates: He is also, um, how do we say this, batshit crazy.
Me: Oh, come on. Really?
Fates: Okay, okay, you’re right. How about these cool creative types? You like that. We have two right now, a musician and a visual artist. They communicate well, too!
Me: OMG, YES PLEASE.
Fates: But also, there’s a plague and you can never leave your house.
Me: You have got to be fucking kidding me.