I've been thinking, ladies...I'm starting to believe that living in the same town for 37 years, minus my 4-year college stint, is preventing me from finding a decent guy. This town is small, more in attitude than in size, really (you know what I mean…it’s the kind of town where everyone knows immediately if you've been dumped, or have just taken a dump, for that matter), but small none-the-less. Thinking back on the men I have dated, would I have given them a shot at love had there been better prospects in the picture, and/or more of them?
Let's say I had 5 prospects to choose from: "Captain," a guy who constantly sports polo shirts, plaid shorts and boat shoes; "mountain man," the healthy, granola-eating guy you see wearing socks and hiking boots in mid-July; "winer and diner," the well-dressed guy who sends back his food and has money falling out of his suit pockets when he walks; "intramural man," the one who plays every sport known to man and is rarely seen without a baseball cap; and finally, a "what's-his-nuts."
Each of these guys would have a one in five chance at scoring a date with me. Now instead of having the cat in the bag, they would have to put more effort into winning me over. And I would be four-fifths less focused on any one of them at any given time. Can you see where I'm going with this?
So, Monday, "captain" (which I would pronounce, "cap'm") could take me to his boat club for a sunset drink or three. Boat people like their cocktails. I would listen to his sailing stories and pretend to be interested since he is so easy on the eyes. We'd have a nice time and I'd agree to another date.
On Tuesday, "mountain man," who lit a fire in my panties the first time I laid eyes on his tight, tanned bod, could take me kayaking on the bay. We'd laugh and paddle along, checking out the scenery and I'd lag behind to check out his deltoids. He'd wink at me, and I'd be impressed by his knowledge of the native plant life. I'd be totally into him...enough to ask him for a second date.
"Winer and diner" would pick me up for a fancy dinner on Wednesday. I'd be excited about a little chivalry and lobster. But as he droned on about his trust fund and $300 shoes, I'd be nodding politely while picturing "mountain man" and "capt'm" in a canoe race. "Capt'm" definitely has the boating experience but he's no match for "mountain man's" well-developed lats. "W&D" would sense my distance and never call again. Plus, I’d probably swear too much for his taste.
Thursday I'd get a call from "mountain man" saying he thought it would be a perfect night for a hike with a special lady. I'd have to call "intramural man" and tell him that I've developed a horrible headache and my cat just started throwing up hairballs, so I'd have to reschedule (via voicemail, of course, since he'd be at his softball game). I'd have a super time with "mountain man," who I would soon come to find is not only attractive, tight-abbed and vegetatively knowledgeable, but also reeeeally funny.
Friday I'd call "intramural man" to see if he'd like to meet me for happy hour drinks. He'd probably pound aluminum bottles of Bud Light, which he'd purchased from the bartender wearing a half-shirt, standing in front of a tub of beer. No doubt I'd be put off by his lack of depth. Then a cutesy text from "mountain man" would pop up on my phone, sending me off into lat-land once again. But "intramural man" would barely notice since he’d be too busy making googley eyes at the half-shirted beer girl.
Saturday I'd take a break from men to hang out with my girls. Here, I'd run into "what's-his-nuts" and hear the same song he'd been singing to me for the past three months, "we should go out, I'll call you!" And I would have deleted him from my phone right then and there.
You get the idea. The more (men), the merrier (I'd be). It would be a win-win situation. We all know guys love a challenge, so I’d only increase my odds of one or more of them being interested in me by increasing the number of prospects I'd have in the game. While at the same time, having all these options to keep me busy, I’d decrease my chances of falling for a “what’s-his-nuts” out of sheer boredom or loneliness.
So I think I may need to up the ante. Increase my odds. Play with a fresh deck.
Stay tuned…
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