May 6, 2012
I wish I could be a dating advisor. I love dating. I miss it, in a twisted sort of way. Still, I’d like to get a job where I can tag along on dates and weigh in with my opinion. “Oh, he’s checking his phone while you’re talking. Unless he’s an obstetrician, ditch him. If he’s not interested in you now, where will you be six months from now?” Or perhaps “I like the way she leans forward when you’re talking. Let’s go out with her again.” Sort of like the movie Hitch, except I’d be there in person, advising both of them, maybe saving some time and misery.
That being said, I’ve failed with every blind date I’ve ever arranged. I don’t know why. I know some very goodhearted, nice-looking, wage-earning men in their 30s, but I can’t seem to get them a girlfriend to save my life. But I think I could help if I was there in person, sort of whispering in each ear. Ask her about her family. Chew with your mouth closed. Put that freakin’ phone away! You’re with a human now. Do not wear that shirt unless you want him to ask how much per hour.
I may start offering this advice on Craig’s List. Will let you know how it goes.