Playing With Matches

"Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match...find me a find...catch me a catch!" If only it were that easy to find love in the year 2008!

I'll call him Albert to protect his anonymity. We met on Match.com. I recently created a profile on the popular online dating service despite one of my best friends own disillusionment with her online dating experiences. I am not unhappy being single. In fact, I'm more and more content with my life every day. I don't have an overwhelming need to be partnered or coupled. And, at the same time, I'm a social being with a loving heart who enjoys sharing my life with a significant other. But, I digress... Anonymous Albert...

We had our first--and only--date tonight. We met for drinks at Twin Peaks, a bar in the Castro (San Francisco's gay district). Twin Peaks has been dubbed the "Glass Coffin" by some uncoothe younger gay men. The establishment has huge windows across the front allowing passersby a view of the bar's patrons, older men. I'm not saying my date was old. Not even close... At 51, he's pretty close to my "target age group." I am attracted to older men. I appreciate the fact that they are established, have a good sense of what they want from life and a relationship, and they can actually carry on an intelligent conversation.

Albert did not look that much like his photos on his profile. In fact, I couldn't pick him out in the crowd. He was much more handsome than I had expected. He looked younger than I had expected he might, and he had facial hair that he did not have in the pictures. He looked great. The conversation seemed to have a slow start. We chatted about dating in general, what we liked to do for fun, and about our experiences with other men we had dated or been in relationships with. At one point he shocked me by saying, "I can usually tell in the first 40 minutes or so if a guy is someone I'd like to have a relationship with." I was tempted to take a look at my watch to see if those crucial 40 minutes had passed. To be honest, I wasn't feeling the chemistry. I liked Albert. He was sweet, soft-spoken, and handsome. His eyes were beautiful, and they seemed to sparkle when he smiled. Albert was clearly intelligent, articulate, cultured, well-travelled, and charming. I felt NOTHING!

There's nothing more tragic than going on a blind date with someone and having a decent time--not a great time, but not a dismal time--and finding that there's no romantic connection. According to Match.com, Albert and I are perfect for each other. But at the end of the evening, we left the restaurant and walked together for a short distance, to the intersection of Market and Noe where Albert offered me his hand and shook mine and said, "You're a sweet guy, but I wish I felt more chemistry." Wait a second...A moment ago I said that nothing is more tragic than realizing that there's no romantic connection between you and your blind date. There is one thing that's more tragic. Standing on the corner of Market and Noe and being told that your date just isn't into you as another really gorgeous guy walks by and overhears the whole thing...yeah...that's slightly more tragic. AND, it happened to me.

It's Saturday night...It's 10:00 PM...and I'm in a t-shirt and sweat pants...sipping a cup of tea...and anticipating that glorious moment when I will slip into a hot bath with a good book and then curl up with my dog. Perhaps the single life isn't quite so bad. That bath is calling me now...but first, let me just see who "winked" at me on Match.com

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The World of Bohemedude

Playing With Matches