As I was explaining to my girlfriends at brunch, my also divorced brother and I had long ago decreed that if we were both single when retirement arrived we would move in together. I painted a picture of an eccentric bro and sis who lived in a strangely colored house with a shrieking doorbell, who dressed in worn chenille bathrobes at odd hours, with perhaps a few cats to round out the scenario. Both girlfriends listened politely, but ultimately were having none of it. Instead, each one had success stories from meetings via eHarmony. I explained that I had tried a few dating sites, then regaled them with the outcomes, the wretchedly sad and sorry outcomes. Dismissing my experiences, they held the hope of a four year old child on Christmas morning for my future happiness. This site was different, they contended. I would find joy in a relationship once again. Doubtful, but for their sake, and silence on the topic, I agreed; once more into the breach.
On line I saw that the smallest increment of eHarmony time would be a three month “introductory membership” for $50. I groaned out loud at that waste of hard earned money but, for friendships’ sake, patiently spent the next three or so hours filling out forms; long, tedious forms that asked long, tedious questions requiring long, tedious answers that hurt my head to consider. Was I neat or ‘casual’? Was I prompt or did I live on ‘Hawaiian time’? Was I formal or relaxed in manner? What was my attitude about money, socializing, travel — everything from ice cream to teeth cleaning to the sun’s proclivity for rising in the east. Finally, long after the shadows of day had left the city, not to mention a few glasses of wine that had mysteriously evaporated, I hit the Done/Send button. Immediately, up popped a response: “We have no matches”, thus confirming what I already knew — no one in their right mind would even consider spending an entire evening with me, never mind the rest of his life. So much for the reckless misuse of $50.
Over the next few days, though, various anticipative suitors appeared on my screen. I noted a number of cautionary tales amongst the requests for my company. For my part there was many a no - no to extreme age differences (no to someone to whom I would be spooning oatmeal in five years), no to men with children ‘who meant everything to them’. Not to denigrate parenthood, but I never wanted children so did not want to live my life around someone else’s children; and last, no to any man who lived more than 20 miles away (‘cause I learned that he will drive to my home a couple of times but after that I would be the one to drive to his home and the 405 freeway on a Friday evening is the embodiment of a very disturbing and never ending Twilight Zone episode).
Weeks went by, with many a fruitless prospect getting the boot. I was almost at the end of my “introductory membership” when one man of interest appeared. Damn. This candidate could alter my life plan. He was four months younger than me (a plus); divorced, no children (another plus); just barely made the 20 mile cut (close enough). With great trepidation, I hit ‘yes’ and was presented with more questionnaires. Lovely. More wine please. Was I a reader or a TV watcher? Ocean or mountains? Coffee or tea? The questions went on and on as did the replies. Finally, more mutually positive responses led to direct email address exchanges and we commenced a fruitful correspondence. However entertaining these missives were, though, after a couple of months, he still showed no interest in meeting me. I finally tired of the written repartee and counseled that unless we were to meet soon I was done with him. After all, I had not joined the site to find a pen pal. The ultimatum finally led to a date request.
He was a member of the private and charming Magic Castle club, so we agreed to meet at the door at 7 pm. I arrived at 6:50 pm. It was an unusually cool spring evening for June 7. My carefully chosen, but thinly woven, purple silk dress was doing nothing to keep me warm. I went to the reception counter and explained to the two young ladies that I was very chilly waiting outdoors. Since I was not a member, however, I technically could not enter the bar without my escort. I gave them his name which did match the reservation time of 7 pm. They noticed the alarmingly large goose bumps on my arms and kindly took pity, giving me the magic word that opened the book case which allowed me entrance to the bar. At the time, I was very grateful.
He arrived promptly at 6:58 pm, dressed in his best navy blazer, pressed khakis and gleaming white shirt, but while the valet was trading his car keys for a ticket the aforementioned young ladies went off their shift and were traded by two new young ladies who took their place. He peeked inside the reception area and, after announcing himself, saw that the entry room was empty so he gallantly waited outside, in the cool evening air that was becoming cooler and windier by the minute. After half an hour he tucked his chilled head back in the door, stated his name again, then asked the young ladies if, perhaps, there had been a call for him. No. Nothing, they lamented. He continued to wait, stoically, outside for another half hour before giving up and heading to the Magic Castle’s bar. Clearly, he had been abandoned.
In the meantime, I waited patiently at the bar, fending off the occasional magician offering a fancy libation or an even fancier card trick. Regrettably, as my patience abated, so did my sense of humor. By 8 pm I finally accepted, quite distressed, that I had been stood up and was collecting myself in preparation for leaving at the exact moment he chose to enter the bar, having decided that I had stood him up. Our eyes met. We stared at each other, both equally nonplussed, but tentatively willing to hear each other's explanations. His was eminently reasonable, as was mine. It appeared that we had both been wronged. The rest of the evening was spent most agreeably, as were the many more evenings to come. Ten months later, as the song goes, he asked:
What are you doing the rest of your life?
North and south and east and west of your life.
I have only one request of your life,
that you spend it all with me.
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