It’s July, so that means it is time for my Annual Date from Hell. In other words, the one date that goes so badly it makes me quit dating for another year. (For recent misadventures, see here or here.) This year I’ve been having trouble finding anyone who remotely appealed to me. And then today was the final straw. I received a long message from a guy professing how I was his perfect woman and his soul mate. How he could have believed this, since his profile said he didn’t drink, was a mystery to me. But the coup de grace was when the self-professed “animal lover” was posing in one of his four photos HOLDING A DEAD RACCOON BY TAIL WITH A BASHED IN, BLOODY HEAD. Clearly not my soul mate, when I spent the last two months guarding a mama raccoon and her 4 babies that were born in my backyard tree. No asshole, my soul mate would not do that. He would be the Jim to my Marlon Perkins.
One of my friends suggested this week that I let my group of friends from grammar school write a dating profile for me and screen my prospects. While that could be amusing, it still means that they are picking from the same pool of eels, barracudas, toxic waste and discarded plastic.
So I’ve decided on a new experiment. Welcome to The Spinster Bachelorette, for someone too old to qualify for the real show, who is too fat to be on tv in a bikini, and who can sit on her couch and drink without having America judge me. And I’m inviting you, my 12 readers, to be my Chris Harrison in this adventure.
Do you have a single friend you think would be a great match for me? Hook me up! Here’s some ground rules:
1. He must be old enough to remember Schoolhouse Rock, and preferably knows the words to “I’m Just a Bill.” But “Conjunction Junction” is just as cool.
2. I can’t be with a non-drinker. There are too many wineries around the world for me to visit. And it’s a two-fer to go on a safari in South Africa. I’m thrifty like that.
3. It would be awesome to find the Henry Talbot to my Mary Crowley. Yes, I still make Downton Abbey references, and he needs to appreciate that. Plus, there’s a Downton movie coming out, so it will be trendy again and hopefully not ruin the franchise like Sex and the City 2. But seriously, the actor Matthew Goode is my actor crush (plus he hosts The Wine Show, so he’s really perfect for me).
4. Accents are nice. I like to travel. So if you have a Swedish 4th cousin, that works. Getting me a green card before North Korea or Iran nukes us would be a bonus.
5. He can’t be a super conservative non-thinking Republican. I’m a Democratic Socialist, and that will never change. In moments of drunkenness while watching Rachel Maddow, I still think about running for office someday. But I’d make a better First Lady. A Badass First Lady.
6. No neck tattoos. Unless he makes $20 million a year playing professional football (soccer for you ‘Mericans.)
7. He can’t have ever killed an animal with 2, 3 or 4 legs unless it ran in front of his car and he couldn’t avoid it.
8. No gun collectors. I’m not tempting somebody shooting me when I throw a tantrum over the in-laws inviting themselves for a visit.
9. He has to have a career. I’m too old to wait out someone building a career, and too poor to be a sugar mama.
10. He can’t be old enough to have voted for Reagan. And if he did vote for Reagan, hell no.
Not too demanding, right? And yet, I’m still single. So…here’s the deal. If you follow my blog, or know me in real life, and you think you have the perfect guy for me, send me an email at: firstname.lastname@example.org (I know, I also still use AOL Mail. But this was my online dating email, so it doesn’t get much use.) Include the subject line: “Your Potential Next Bad Date, But I Hope Not.” Give me a brief bio, and preferably a picture, but make sure you have his consent, because I’m still a lawyer and all that jazz.
If it all works out, I will buy your plane ticket to our wedding at the Ice Hotel Chapel in Jukkasjarvi, Sweden. And he needs to be okay with that.